The Online in the Single-Player
by SmiggleWiggy
Summary: Alex arrives in the sprawling city of Los Santos, expecting to find her place here after leaving her life in Liberty City behind. Little does she know that the life waiting for her in LS isn't really any different from the one she left behind... Except, y'know, when three people come into it and lead her down a path she'd never thought she'd traverse.
1. Welcome to Los Santos

**Yo! Trying somethin' different. Grand Theft Auto V is a video game that is very near and dear to my heart, and I was like, yo.**

 **FanFictions are how I show my love. I gotta give GTA V one.**

 **So, here we go.**

 **Title is based around** ** _The Catcher in the Rye_** **, except explaining what this Fiction is gonna be - my online character placed into the single-player story.**

 **S'gonna go great. Or terribly! We'll see!**

* * *

Alex took a hesitant step out of the shadow of cover that the drop-off section of Los Santos International Airport was giving off and stood in confusion on the sidewalk, wondering where the guy she was supposed to be meeting was.

"Yo! Baby! Look over here!" She turned in the direction of the voice and saw a tall, lanky African American climb out of a black car. He sauntered over to her, shorts sagging and hat on lopsided. This had to be Lamar Davis, the kid she'd met on LifeInvader and had convinced her to come to Los Santos.

He held out his hand, and she slapped it. "It is to finally meet you," Lamar greeted. He studied her up and down. "You uh… You a lot smaller than your picture on LifeInvader gave away." When Alex didn't reply, he waved it off. "Ah shit, it don't matter. What matters is that you finally here!"

Lamar walked back over to his car. Alex remained where she was, unsure of what to do. Lamar started to pull open the driver's door, and glanced at her. "What you doing? Get yo' little red self into the car!" he ordered.

Alex scurried over to the car and pulled open the door. She slid her suitcase and violin in first, and then sat down on the passenger's seat.

Lamar slid into the driver's and started up the car. "So, I heard that you wasn't much of a talker. I mean, it's probably best to keep yo' mouth shut here. One wrong word and bam!" Alex jumped. "You been clapped." He laughed and reached down between the seat. "Anyway, I got'chu something." His hand reappeared, holding a pistol. He offered it to Alex, and she took it carefully. "Welcome to Los Santos."

He laughed again and started to drive. Instead of studying her surroundings like she should have, Alex studied the gun in her hand. Were things really so bad she needed one? She'd only shot one a few times before, and that was because her father had insisted she try.

And where the hell did Lamar imagine she was going to put it? In her pocket?

Alex sighed and made sure the safety was on before standing slightly, enough to slide the pistol into the back of her jeans. She eased back down and gazed out the windshield, eyes going wide. In a matter of seconds, the ghetto had disappeared and big city had come out. Skyscrapers loomed ahead of them as they weaved through traffic, and bright billboards spoke of alcohol, lubricants, soda, and other necessities of life.

Lamar had been talking for the last several minutes, and she decided that she better listen to whatever it was he was saying. "My boy Simeon could probably hit you up with some jobs, y'know, the ones I was telling you about before. Hao'll look after yo' rides, and when you got the coin, you could maybe get yo' own personal mechanic." Lamar glanced sideways at her. "Y'know, you'll do fine. Wit me to tell you what's good and what's bad, you'll be as popular as me in no time."

"I don't know if I want to be as popular as you," Alex replied as Lamar took a sharp right.

He laughed once more. "You get to be as popular as me, you'll have bitches wanting you dead, and other bitches wanting to suck yo-" He cut off and glanced at her. "Sorry 'bout that. I'm just used to my boy Franklin being wit me all the damn time. He works fo' Simeon too. You'll be sure to meet him, eventually."

He pulled to a stop in front of a shabby motel with a flickering sign. It was the only bad building within the next 50 yards or so. "Yo, so, this is the hotel. It ain't exactly five stars, but I'm sure it'll serve."

Alex opened the car door and climbed out, grabbing her two cases as she did so. Lamar waved at her through the window. "I'll holla at you, a'ight? You get settled in, and tomorrow, we go and see Simeon. Catch ya when I do." The window rolled up again and Lamar drove off. Alex's shoulders slumped, and she turned to face the motel. She was about to head inside when she heard shouts coming from somewhere nearby.

"What're you doing here?" someone growled loudly. "Ain't nobody supposed to be here."

Another, shakier voice responded, "I-I'm here to pick it up. My boss sent me."

Alex started to walk towards the voices. She reached an alley between the motel and the building next to it. At the end in the shadows, two men were standing, one tall and intimidating, the other small and feeble. There were two crates sitting on the ground between them.

"Boss or no boss," the first guy was saying as Alex approached, "I was told to give these crates to nobody 'cept for Philips."

The second man glanced around nervously. "Listen, buddy, I don't want no trouble, from you or my boss. It'd be in our best interests for you too just hand over the crates."

"Our best interest?" the first guy scoffed. "Sure. Definitely. Here, just take the crates of valuable drugs. I don't care."

He kicked the crates over, and the second guy squeaked as they burst open. Glass bottles cracked as they hit the ground, and the first guy grabbed the second by the neck with one hand. He lifted the smaller man off of the ground and shook him.

"Hey!" Alex called down the alley. Her voice brought the bigger man to a pause. "What's going on?"

"Something that doesn't concern you, girl" the big guy warned. "Stay out of it."

Alex knew she probably should, but he was holding the other guy by the throat. She wasn't just going to let him choke out the smaller guy just because he could. She fumbled for her gun and brought it out for safety purposes before she walked over to the two and held the gun up.

"Put him down," she hissed.

The bigger man, who had a snake tattoo on his bald head glared at her and set the smaller man down. The smaller man had glasses and knobbly knees, and he scurried over to stand behind Alex. The big man stooped down to scoop up the bottles. "I ain't giving them over," he muttered under his breath.

"You will, or your snake is going to lose an eye," Alex promised.

The big man blinked, and slowly set the crate he was holding down onto the ground. He pointed at them as he backed away towards the opposite end of the alley, which opened onto another street. "Stay away from me." With that, he turned and ran off.

Alex's shoulders slumped, and she bowed her head, sighing heavily. "Thank God I didn't actually have to shoot him," she said. "I don't think I would've been able to."

The small guy hurried over to the crates and loaded all of the spilled bottles back into them. When he had finished, he straightened up, crates in hand. He looked Alex up and down. "Thanks, I guess," he mumbled, adjusting the glasses on his nose with a shoulder since his hands were full. "What's your name?"

"Alex," she replied.

The guy waited for her to go on, but she didn't, and so he said. "Okay, Alex, why did you decide to help me?"

"He was way bigger than you. The fight wasn't equal."

The guy's cheeks grew very red, and he turned away. "Well, I'm Ron, anyway. It's probably best if you don't know what's in these crates."

"I think I have a pretty good idea," Alex told him. "I lived in Liberty City."

"Liberty City ain't got nothing when bein' compared to Los Santos," someone said from behind her. Before Alex could turn around, she was disarmed and there was a rag stuffed into her mouth. One more moment, and she was out cold.

($)

"Wakey wakey!" The sack covering her head was pulled off, and Alex was left coughing in smoke and dust. When she was finally able to focus, it was revealed that a man wearing gray sweatpants stained with all kinds of things and an equally stained white shirt was standing before her. His arms were crossed, and his receding hairline with a bald spot on the top of his head gave him the impression of someone she did not want to be around.

Alex decided her best move would be to remain silent and let him do the talking. "Now, listen," the guy began, moving from his position before her and walking around to the place she couldn't see. "You know about my business, now. Usually, I wouldn't give a shit, but you also saved acting CEO from a client I should have gone to see myself."

"I didn't want him to die," replied Alex. "I didn't really have any other choice."

"Ah, see, but you did," the man told her. "You could have just kept walking or whatever it was you were doing. But no, you decided to help my dear friend Ron. Therefore, I've decided to reward you."

"With my life?" Alex asked hopefully, though she allowed a small hint of sarcasm to creep into her voice as well.

Apparently, that hadn't been a good decision, because the man was back in front of her, leering closely into her face. Alex could smell whiskey and gas on his breath, but she forced herself to keep a straight face. The guy studied her a moment and then backed off slightly. "Sorry," he apologized. "I get angry sometimes. Hope I didn't smother you too much, princess."

Alex chose to remain quiet this time. The guy paced in front of her, arms crossed again. "I really don't want to kill you," he said at last.

"I would prefer if you didn't," Alex confirmed. The guy glared at her, and she cocked an eyebrow. "I'm assuming if you wanted me dead, you would have done it by now. You don't seem the type to waste time."

The guy stepped closer to her. "Maybe not," he growled quietly, dangerously, "but I am the kind of guy who likes torture. Tell me, princess. Do you like torture?"

Alex swallowed and diverted her gaze. She heard the man snort and back off. "Didnt think so. So, tell me, what should I do with you? You saved Ron, however useless he may be, but your late decision to do so ruined more than half the stash he was picking up. What does that get you?"

Alex narrowed her eyes, training them on the floor. It seemed as though she was inside an aircraft hanger. It had a domed roof, and was very large, though she and the man were the only two objects inside it. After a moment of thinking, she lifted her head and looked him straight in the eyes. "My life, but in exchange, I have to go pick something up for you."

The male looked impressed. He took a step backwards, and a wicked grin crossed his face. "Sounds as though we've come to an agreement."

"Sure," Alex answered. She wiggled her fingers. Her hands had been tied to the arms of the chair she was sitting in, and her fingers were starting to go numb. "Uh, I will be glad to go get whatever it is you would like me too, but I need fingers to do that."

The man rolled his eyes and broke the duct tape holding her wrists down with his finger. Alex rubbed them and glanced up at him. "You're going to go steal a van," he told her.

"Will I possibly die doing this?" Alex queried, standing up.

The man shrugged. "Perhaps. But if you do, make sure you bring me the van first. I don't care what happens to you as long as you get me that van. Understand?" Alex nodded, and the man walked over to the huge door of the airplane hanger. He hits a button, and it slowly begins to rise. "Van should be in an alley near Vespucci Beach. If you're lucky, you won't get your head blown off taking it. You know how to hot wire?"

Alex blanched. "N-No. Should I?"

"Jesus," the man grumbled under his breath. He leaned around the wall of the hanger and shouted, "Wade! Get over here!"

A few seconds later, a white male with a head full of dirty blonde dreads tied back with a strand of his own hair appeared. "Hey, Trevor," he greeted, revealing a country accent. He glanced at Alex. "Who's this?" He had a lisp as well, Alex realized.

The man, whose name appeared to be Trevor, pointed to her. "This is Alex. You're going to go with her to get a van."

Wade grinned widely at her, but Alex avoided his gaze. "Why am I goin'?" he asked Trevor. "Don't she know how to steal a van?"

Trevor sighed. "No, so, unfortunately, I'm sending you with her, even though I would much prefer you to stay here. Make sure she doesn't try to run. If she does, well…"

He gave Alex a lingering glance, and she bowed her head submissively. _Well_ , _Alex_ , she thought to herself, _one day in Los Santos and you're already a part of a drug company. Good job._

* * *

 **So, yep. There we go. This should be an adventure and a half.**

 **God, I'm terrified.**


	2. Everything's Coming Up Al

**Since the beginning of the FanFiction isn't very... good... I've decided to get all this garbage out of the way and upload it as quickly as I can. Once I'm out of the first like... two hours of the game or so, I'll start uploading once or twice a week instead of every day.**

 **Just be aware of that.**

* * *

Alex groaned as she climbed out of the van. Everything was sore. There hadn't been any threats, other than one or two guys that they'd been able to take out, but she'd had to remain bent over for a long time while Wade taught her the art of hot wiring cars. As if that hadn't been enough, he'd let her drive back to Sandy Shores, where Trevor's drug farm operated. As she pulled up in front of the abandoned store that they used for this purpose, Trevor appeared outside.

"Look at you!" he said, pleased. "It only took you 6 hours!" He clapped sarcastically. "Good job."

"Sorry, Trevor," Wade apologized as he appeared from the other side of the van. "It took Alex a while to hot wire, and then we had to drive back. There was lots of traffic."

Trevor sighed and walked around to the rear of the van. Alex heard the doors open, and Trevor whooped. "Everything's intact!" The doors closed again and he suddenly had an arm around Alex's throat and was giving her a noogie. "You're my little drug princess! I love you!"

Alex shied away from his grasp, head stinging from the force of his noogie. "Thanks, I guess. Am I allowed to go, now?"

"What?" Trevor asked, his eyes growing big and sad. "You're going to leave? But I thought we had something special?"

"You kidnapped me and sent me to steal a van full of drugs," Alex said, blinking at him. "Is that what you would call special?"

Trevor fell to his knees before her and wrapped his arms around her legs. "Please don't leave me," he said, looking up at her. "Sure, you're a little weird, but that's what proves we belong together. This is a friendship built by the Gods."

Alex blinked down at him, unsure if he was being serious. Before she could reply, however, Trevor stood up, taking Alex with him as he did so. She went limp as he tossed her over one shoulder. "Wade, make sure Chef gets that on ice!" Trevor ordered.

"Sure thing, Trevor," Wade responded. Trevor started to walk down the street, Alex still draped over his shoulder. "Where are you taking me?" she asked him.

"Mi casa," Trevor replied. "Mi casa su casa."

"But..." Alex remembered her suitcase and violin, both of which she had abandoned outside of the motel when she had gone to rescue Ron. "My stuff."

"Don't worry about your things," Trevor said dismissively. "Ron took care of 'em. They're waiting at home."

"Oh. Great," Alex said halfheartedly. One and a half days in Los Santos, and she was being given a home against her will. She huffed and drooped her arms downwards so they were danglingly. They bumped against Trevor's back with every step.

"Don't worry, princess," Trevor said cheerfully. "I'm gonna take good care of you."

"I'm sure."

($)

Alex's phone vibrated in her back pocket, and she pulled it out to see why. She had a text from Lamar. _Yo, stopped by ur motel and u wasnt there. Whered ya go?_

She released a breath and typed out a quick response. _Got caught up with something. I'll meet you at the Burger Shot in Vespucci Beach in two hours._

A minute later, she got another message. _Aight_.

Her head shot up from her phone when she heard footsteps crunching through the desert sand, and Trevor appeared around the trailer that he lived in. He spotted Alex hiding between a bush and a cactus and he said, "There you are! Why are you hiding back here?"

Alex stammered for an answer and she scrambled into a standing position. "I-I was j-just uhm doing something... On my phone, a-and I needed better service, so I decided to come outside." _Yeah, that was good, A. Swell job._

Trevor gazed at her with an arched eyebrow. "Let me see your phone," he said at last, holding out his hand.

Alex gripped her phone protectively. "Why?" she asked him.

"So I know if you're practicing safe phone sex," Trevor answered sarcastically. He folded his hand over a couple of times. "Come on."

Alex released a breath and passed it too him. It took him a few moments to unlock it and Alex bit her lip and he skimmed the most recent messages. When he was finished, he lifted his eyes. "What's this about?"

"Lamar was the one to convince me to come to Los Santos," Alex explained, gesturing to the phone. "He said he'd be able to get me a job, and I-" She cut off and bowed her head. "Can I go meet him?"

Trevor studied the messages a moment longer and then looked at her. "You'll come back, right?" Alex nodded quickly. "Good, cause if you don't come back, I'll find you, princess." The last would was close to a hiss.

Alex nodded fiercely again. "Of course I'll come back. I don't have anywhere else to go." She held out her hand. Trevor gazed at it dubiously, and Alex let out a patient breath. "I need it for GPS."

"Find your own way," he responded, about to slide the phone into his pocket. "I need something to make sure you come back."

Alex scrambled for something else to bargain with as he started to walk off. After a moment, it hit her. "My violin!" she said. Trevor stopped. He glanced over his shoulder at her. She grinned. "You have my violin. There's no way I would leave it. I'll be back."

Trevor studied her skeptically for a moment, and then pulled her phone out of his pocket and held it out to her. Alex took it gratefully and started to jog around to the front of the trailer. "Find a car to take!" Trevor called after her.

The first car she saw was a Picador driving down the road at a leisurely speed. It wasn't what she would've liked to drive, but it was better to take it while she was exhilarated than wait and get scared. She stood in front of the car so the driver would be forced to stop, and then walked around to the driver's side of the car, opened the door and pulled him out.

"Sorry pal," she said as she slide into the seat and quickly shut the door. Without waiting, she drove off, leaving the driver behind. Alex couldn't help but laugh at how easy that had been. She paused at a stop sign and quickly pulled up the GPS, typed in Burger Shot, Vespucci Beach to get directions. When the purple line appeared, leading her to the only Burger Shot in the area, she took a left and started to drive towards the highway.

After a long hour and a half of horrible drivers, bicycle riders on the freeway, and an extra thirty minutes driving through traffic, Alex finally pulled up in front of Burger Shot, letting out a heavy sigh. She glanced in her rearview mirror and saw Lamar pulling in right behind her. She could see him laughing as he pulled up next to her and climbed out of his car. She did the same, and he waved his hand at the Picador she was standing in front of.

"Nice ride you got, Red," he said, chortling. "Where'd ya get it?"

"I needed a car to get down here," she told him, "So I took it."

Lamar sniffed and let out a breath. "A'ight, so, my boy Simeon, he said he was gon' look into ya, see what'chu have to offer. In the meantime, what do we say we get you a better ride that this?" He kicked at the tire of the Picador. Alex nodded, and Lamar started towards his own car, gesturing towards the passenger side. "Get in, baby. We'll get you hooked up."

Alex did as she was told, and Lamar drove from the Burger Shot parking lot, leaving the brown Picador behind. He started driving south, in the direction of the airport. Alex wondered out loud where they were going.

"Los Santos International," Lamar replied. "Always a fine pick of cars out there. Security sucks too, so it shouldn't be hard to take one."

Alex merely let out a breath. Why had she thought they were actually going to get her a ride? Just then, her phone beeped with a text, and she pulled it up. It was a number connected to a LifeInvader account, and the name was Simeon Yeterian. The text read, _My employee Lamar tells me you're worth something. It may be so. As a sign of my excitement to work with you, I offer you my services. Pick a car of your choice and take it to Los Santos Customs, near the airport. My friend Hao, he will supply you with whatever you wish for free. My treat_.

"Oh," Alex said when she finished reading. Lamar glanced in her direction, and she waved her phone. "Your friend Simeon. He told me I could get anything at Los Santos Customs for free. Does he do that often?"

"Ah shit," Lamar said, waving his hand. "He's probably just reeling you in, boo. He does it all the time. He'll give you something, and then you have to repay him. In your case, probably by working for him." He grinned widely at her. "Guess you're gonna get a sick ride after all, ah?"

Even as Lamar pulled into the parking lot, Alex saw the car she knew she wanted. A pristine red Canis Mesa was parked prettily near the end of the row.

She pointed. "I want that one," she said to Lamar.

He followed her finger and shrugged, pulling up next to the Mesa. When Alex didn't move, he glanced sideways at her.

"Well, what'chu waiting for? Go and get it."

Alex gave him a look before she sighed and climbed out of the car. Lamar followed her, and Alex glanced around before she hurried to the driver's seat and rammed her elbow through the window. It crashed inwards, but no alarm went off. All the same, Alex flinched and ducked down to avoid any eyes looking her way.

"Boo, ain't no one comin' for ya," Lamar told her. "Wire that shit and let's get outta here."

Alex reached up and unlocked the door before pulling it open and leaning underneath the steering wheel. She tried to remember what Wade had taught her earlier that week, and touched two wires together. Immediately, the engine started, and Alex grinned, pleased with herself.

"Nice one, Red," Lamar praised as she sat back up. He climbed back into his own car and pointed out the window. "Follow me; I'll take ya too Hao's."

Alex jumped up into the seat of the Mesa, her Mesa, and followed Lamar out of the airport. No one even noticed her driving away, and she chortled. Wonderful.

They drove up the road aways to a Los Santos Customs. A dude was working on some chump-looking car inside, and he raised his head as Alex drove into the garage, letting out a low whistle when he saw her. "Lamar, damn brother. You getting it on!" he said.

"Man, shut up. This is Alex," Lamar said, pointing to her as he hopped out of his car.

"Simeon mentioned her. So, what do you need, Red? Some rims, a new color?"

Alex smiled to herself. Los Santos may not be as bad as she thought.

($)

"Yo, Franklin!" Lamar parked his car and climbed out. Alex pulled up beside him and did the same as he jogged up the street in the direction of another African American who was sitting outside a house on the front step. The guy stood up as Lamar approached with Alex behind him.

"You crazy motherfucker!" he exclaimed, gesturing to the light pole Lamar had knocked down. "Why in the hell did you do that?"

"It was in my way," Lamar explained. He grabbed Alex's arm and pulled her forward, saying, "This is Red."

Alex rolled her eyes and held out her hand. "Alex."

Franklin shook it. "Franklin Clinton." He looked at Lamar. "This the one you met on LifeInvader?" Lamar nodded in confirmation, and Franklin shook his head at Alex. "How'd you let his crazy ass convince you too move down here?"

"Hey, if there's money to be made, I'm gonna try to make it," Alex replied. "Besides, I didn't know he'd be that crazy." She pointed to the light pole.

"Man, fuck both y'all," Lamar grumbled. "You two are gonna be best fuckin' friends, I can just feel it."

Franklin and Alex exchanged a look, and Alex gave him a grin. "I think he's jealous."

"Man, Red's gon' take your place," Franklin said. "You better watch yo' self, stay on my good side." His phone rang, and he looked down at it. "Ah, it's Simeon. Gotta get to work." He looked up and winked at Alex. "I'll see you later, a'ight?"

He walked to where a white Buffalo was parked in the driveway and climbed into it. Lamar shook his head as his own phone rang. "Damn, Simeon needs me for this job, too," he said as he looked at it. He slid his phone into his pocket and look at her. "You gonna be alright on yo' own, Red?"

"Sure, I got other things to do," Alex responded, remembering she had an obligation to Trevor, too.

"A'ight, I'll holla at ya," Lamar told her before jogging across the street and climbing into his car. He pulled away, and Alex shook her head with a small grin before she went over to her Mesa and climbed into it. Her phone started to ring, and she pulled it out of her pocket.

"I'm on my way back right now, T," she told him, "don't worry."

"Don't worry? I'm not worried, I was just going to tell you to pick up some booze on your way back," Trevor replied. "Preferably something strong. I have a date tonight."

"And by date I'm guessing you mean dinner with Ron?"

"Pfft," Trevor scoffed. "He wishes. Just pick up some vodka, okay princess?"

"Sure, Trevor. I'll be back soon." She hung up the phone and smiled as she reached down to start the Mesa. Everything was definitely coming up Alex.

* * *

 **Hurray for Alex. She's met Franklin, and she's got her Mesa... yeah, everything's lookin' good.**

 **I like it.**


	3. Online dash Single-Player

**So... I _think_ this is the last chapter before the good stuff starts? I dunno for sure, so there could not be a chapter until next week after tomorrow, or there's one on Thursday, and then not another one 'til next week after that. **

**Eh. We'll see, I suppose.**

* * *

"Hey, Franklin," Alex greeted as he strolled up to where she was standing and waiting for Simeon to finish talking to a potential buyer.

"Red," he responded, giving her a fist bump. "What's happenin'?"

"Ah, just… Simeon being Simeon," she answered with a head shake.

"You're a racist," Simeon said loud enough for them to overhear, as though to prove her point. "You don't like me because you think that I am an Arab."

That's when he noticed Franklin had joined Alex off to the side, and he held out his arms as he approached. "That boy!" he exclaimed. "I am… I am his mentor!" He reached Franklin and shook his hand. "I am so proud of you."

"What do you mean, a mentor?" Franklin asked, looking confused.

"Don't worry about that," Simeon said dismissively, looking over Franklin's shoulder to see if the buyer was watching.

"So, what you got for me?" Franklin queried.

"James De Santa," Simeon responded. "Some kid; he's already late on his payments and I have this bad feeling that he will do more damage to the car than we can get back from him in the exorbitant interest rate payments." He waved his hand towards the street. "Just go and get it."

He put his hand on Franklin's shoulder and walked him away from the car the buyer was sitting in, leaving Alex to go over and talk to the buyer before he could climb out. "What is going on out there?" he demanded, one leg in and one leg out.

"Just give him a moment, please," she asked. "It's hard work, being a mentor." She didn't like that Simeon lied to the customers, but she couldn't just ruin the one he'd started. That wasn't what improv was. "If you don't like this car, I can show you a different one."

"I don't know if I even want to buy a car from you people," the buyer muttered. "Your boss is a little exuberant."

"That's just him," Alex replied. "If he's too much, I could show you a few more cars. I know that Simeon's persuasion methods can be a bit… over the top."

"So good to see you my boy!" Simeon called after Franklin, announcing he was returning to the car. "Good luck in… law school!"

"Law school?" the buyer questioned.

Alex merely shook her head as Simeon walked back over to them. "What are you doing out here?" he asked.

"I was just –"

"Go inside!" he ordered, pointing towards the building. "Sort through the files and see if you can find something for Lamar to do when he shows up later."

Alex threw up her hands and left the parking lot with a heavy sigh. "When Lamar told me about this job, I thought I'd be doing more street work," she grumbled to herself.

She was sorting through the files in Simeon's office where there was a loud crash from the front of the dealership. She dropped the folder she was holding and raced out to see what had happened, eyes widening when she saw a yellow Bee Jay had driven through the front window.

"Franklin!" Simeon was exclaiming as Alex hurried over. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Franklin and some other male clambered out of the Bee Jay. "Mr. Simeon," Franklin began, holding his head. "It's not exactly how it looks."

The guy approached him holding a wad of cash. "I always trump big for a job well done," he said, passing him the money. Alex gazed at it, eyes open. She wanted some of that. "Get out of here, kid," the guy went on.

Franklin met her eyes before shaking his head and ducking through the rubble of the window.

"You motherfucker!" Simeon shouted at the guy, who approached him, shoulders tense. "I will not be treated like this!" Simeon raised his fists for a fight.

Alex quickly intervened. "Simeon," she said, pushing him backwards away from the guy. "I don't think this is good for the business."

"Not good for the business?!"

Alex gestured to the flock of people that were standing outside the dealership, watching the scene inside with curious eyes. Simeon's gaze flickered from them to her, and then to the guy, before going back to her. "He drove a vehicle through my window."

"You charged this car for a price that it's definitely not worth!" the man behind her retorted. "Look at it, does it look like it's worth five grand a month to you?"

"You – you fucking racist!" Simeon screeched, pushing past Alex to get to him. Before he could even touch him, however, the guy had sent a solid punch into Simeon's face, knocking him flat.

Alex gaped at her fallen employer before looking up at the guy. He shook out his fist, glaring down at Simeon. "You're working for a corrupt business, ma'am," he said to her.

"I know," she replied with a sigh of defeat. "It's not really worth the pay."

The guy let out a brief chuckle. "Maybe you could find some other place to work, then." He paused for a moment. "Though, I'm not sure how many businesses in Los Santos aren't corrupt in some manner."

He then turned and walked out of the dealership. Alex watched him go, forgetting all about how she'd been trying to get some money for his own. "Damn," she said to herself at last. "He knows what he's doing."

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and exited the dealership herself. Dialing Franklin's number, she waited for him to answer as she watched the guy stroll down the street, as though nothing that had just happened had transpired.

"Damn, Alex!" Franklin exclaimed when he'd picked up. "What the fuck happened after I left?"

"Well, Simeon got knocked out, and I realized that working at the dealership? Not the best thing." She watched the guy disappear around the corner. "What did he say to you?"

"Man, he said that I could drop by his house, and he'd teach me a few things," Franklin replied. "I might take him up on that offer, since I doubt I'll still have my job after this."

"I might have to go with you," Alex said, allowing a glance over her shoulder. Simeon was staggering to his feet, using the Bee Jay for support. "I may have let the guy punch Simeon without trying to do anything."

"ALEX!" Simeon screeched, and she winced, running around the corner to get away.

"Let's pop over to the guy's place, soon, Franklin," she suggested once she was free. "He knows what he's doing."

($)

"What're you two doing here?" The guy who had driven through their workplace gazed at both of them through narrowed eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

"I came here for that drink you offered," Franklin replied.

"And I'm… I'm just here," Alex added.

"Hmm," the guy mused, leaning back in his lawn chair, "that offer wasn't exactly serious."

"What?" Franklin asked, confused.

"Nothing," the guy sighed, settling back onto his chair. "You're already here, sit."

Franklin did as he asked, sitting down on the chair next to him. Alex crossed her arms as the guy glanced over at Franklin. "You're not gonna rob me again, right?"

"Man, I never robbed you," Franklin said. "That was just a repossession."

The guy snorted and raised the cigar he was holding to his lips. "You call it whatever the fuck you like." There was a pause as he took a drag on the cigar and blew the smoke out. "What can I do for ya?" he asked after a moment.

"Shit, I just came by to see if there's somethin' I can help you with," Franklin told him. He gestured to Alex with his hand. "She said you was someone who looked like he knew what he was doin'."

"That so?" The guy took another drag. "Look," he said, setting his glass of whiskey down on the table between him and Franklin. "I'm retired."

He leaned back as Franklin looked him over. "Ain't you a bit young for the pipe, the slippers and starin' at a fuckin' sunset?" he asked him.

"You know, I've been in this game for a lot of years, and I got out alive," the guy said to him. "That makes me the right age." Franklin didn't say anything, and the guy sighed before sitting up and removing his sunglasses. "You look like a good kid." He glanced up at Alex. "If you want my advice, you give this shit up. You work hard, screw over everybody that you love, hurt, rob and kill indiscriminately, and maybe, just maybe, you become a three-bit gangster. It's bullshit. Go to college, then you can rip people off and get paid for it."

"So, what we saw the other day was like when a corpse briefly reanimates itself and terrorizes everyone, right?" Franklin asked him. Alex snickered and shook her head.

The guy gave him a look. "What you saw the other day was a guy dealing with pests," he said slowly.

"I guess I never saw myself as just a fuckin' pest," Franklin told him, looking down at the ground.

"Well, then today's lesson is about humility," the guy said, looking back up at the sky. "Tomorrow, we'll try a training montage."

"A training what?" Franklin asked while Alex let out a small snort.

"Nothin'. I was just lost in an eighties movie fantasy," the guy explained.

"Yeah, I can see you spend a lot of time there," Franklin said, scratching at the short layer of stubble on his chin. The guy cast a glance in his direction. "Is that why you in Vinewood, then?"

"Maybe I'm here because I'm just an idiot," the guy told him, "who thinks that imported palm trees are a good substitute for not really knowing that the fuck you're doing on this earth."

"Jesus, man," Franklin scoffed. "You a good time, you know that?"

The guy opened his eyes and looked at them both. "I'll tell you what," he said, starting to get up, "the least I can do is buy you that beer. There's a little bar I like; it's not too far from here."

"Alright man, we're following you," Franklin told him, touching Alex's arm as they walked past.

They started to walk out of the backyard and around to the front of the house. "We'll take my wife's car," the guy said. "She won't mind." His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket. Alex glanced at Franklin as he started talking. "Hey Jim. Listen, I'm about to go out for a drink with-" He cut off, and stopped dead. "What? The yacht's been stolen?"

He turned and looked over his shoulder at them. Alex tilted her head in question, and the guy rolled his eyes. "You're insane! All right, I'm coming. For my boat!"

He hung up the phone and waved his hand at them. "Change of plans," he said. "My darling boy is in trouble."

Alex and Franklin exchanged another look before they both turned and hurried after him to the red convertible that was sitting in the driveway. "What's going on?" Alex demanded.

"My idiot son decided to sell my boat. Only, they didn't want to pay for it, and now they're driving down the Western Highway, with my boat and my kid. How's that for a lovely, relaxing Saturday?"

Alex slid into the back seat and Franklin into the passengers while the guy climbed into the driver's. Within seconds, they were out of the drive and heading towards the freeway.

"Do you have a plan?" Franklin asked.

"Not really," the guy answered. "Fortunately, I'm more of a roll with the punches kind of guy. Name's Michael, by the way."

Alex frowned. Why did that name sound familiar to her?

"Shouldn't you be more worried about your son?" Franklin questioned. "I mean, you can always buy another boat, can't you?"

"Not this boat," Michael said. "This boat is special."

They'd reached the highway by that point, and a trailer carrying a big white yacht suddenly came barreling around a corner in front of them. "Hey, there it is! That's my boat!"

"Your boat's in a fucking hurry, man," Franklin told him as Michael pressed down on the gas pedal to speed up.

"Yeah, we'll catch 'em," Michael said.

"We got a plan now?" Franklin queried as they sped closer to the trailer.

"Sure. Once I pull up close enough, you become the boarding party," Michael responded, doing just that.

Franklin sighed and started to stand up. "More like the falling in traffic party." He climbed onto the hood of the convertible and jumped across the small space between the car and the trailer, grabbing onto the yacht.

"Be careful!" Alex called to him as he pulled himself up into the boat.

There was guy riding it, and as soon as he saw Franklin, he let out a curse and started to attack him. Michael muttered something and started to reach for the glove box, but driving and grabbing were proving to be difficult for him, especially as Franklin threw the guy over the edge and Michael drove over him.

"Hey, can you grab the gun that's in there?" Michael asked Alex, putting both hands on the wheel.

"Yeah, sure," Alex responded, leaning over the seat and doing as he asked her too. Might as well put the shooting lessons Trevor'd been putting her through to use. She pulled out the pistol and held it up, aiming for the new guy that had appeared and was hitting Franklin. She fired, and the bullet whizzed between the car and the trailer and hit the guy in the shoulder, giving Franklin enough time to overpower him and throw him over the side as well.

Michael avoided this one, swerving into the lane beside the trailer. That's when the engine of the car decided to pop. Smoke rose up from under the hood, and Michael cursed again. "Fuck! Not the engine!"

"Hey, Michael! Yo' kid is up here!" Franklin called to him. Suddenly, the sail swung out over the side of the yacht, Michael's son clinging onto the edge.

"Dad!" he screeched, hanging on for dear life.

"Hold on, Jim!" Michael said, pulling up underneath the sail. Jimmy let out and fell into the back seat just as Alex scooted over as far as she could so he wouldn't land on her. Jimmy groaned and sat up, rubbing his head as Michael pulled back behind the yacht to get Franklin.

He jumped from the boat onto the convertible again, and climbed over the windshield into the passenger seat. The engine of the car clunked and grunted, and Michael pushed down on the gas pedal, urging it to work.

"Damn, that's the engine, man," Franklin said. "We ain't gonna be chasing shit in this thing."

"My fucking boat!" Michael shouted in annoyance.

"Hey, calm down," Jimmy told him. "It's just a thing."

"Hey, man, there's a chop shop back there aways," Franklin said, jerking his thumb in the direction they had come from. "You drive us there, we can get the ride fixed."

Michael muttered something and turned the car around to drive back in the opposite direction, almost hitting an oncoming car as he jumped sides of the highway. "My boat," he groaned.

"It's just a thing!" Jimmy repeated.

"My boat."

"Please stop doing that," Jimmy begged. "Listen, I fucked up, okay? I'm not gonna lie. That was… A really bad judgement call, but… Shit, dad. I nearly died, and all you give a shit about is this fucking boat?"

"No, it's not that, it's…" Michael trailed off with a huff.

"All we do is scream at each other," Jimmy sighed. "No wonder I can't get a job. It's all your fucking fault. Or, it's not, but it's partly your fault. I-I mean, I just want to impress you."

"By selling my boat to some gang bangers?" Michael asked him.

"I know it sounds dumb when you put it like that, but all you do is day dream or get angry," Jimmy exclaimed.

"Look," Michael began, "I love you Jimmy, but you're an asshole. And right now, with my boat disappearing over the horizon, that's all I can see." He glanced over at Franklin. "Franklin, would you do me a favor and give this kid a ride home after they've fixed this thing? I want to headbutt the road in peace."

"Oh great - leave me with the home invader and the ginger!" Jimmy cried. Alex gave him a dangerous glare, and he clamped up, scooting away from her.

"I'll get it done, dog. No problem," Franklin said to Michael.

"Dad!"

"Enough, alright? Enough. Franklin, would you call me a cab?"

"Sure, homie." Franklin pulled out his phone and dialed a number before pointing. "This is the place up here."

Michael pulled into the Customs a bit before he climbed out of the driver's seat. Alex hopped over the side as a taxi pulled up. "Hey, Frankie, give me a call, alright?" she asked him. "I gotta get out of here."

"Sure thing, A," Franklin responded. "Hey man, I'm a get the car fixed and drop it back off at your house along with this dude," he went on to Michael as Jimmy climbed over the seat to the now vacant passenger one. "You go and get your head alright, aright?"

"Alright," Michael replied. "Listen, thanks for today, both of you. You stop back out to the house, we'll talk." He walked off and climbed into the taxi, waving to them. Alex gave Franklin a nod goodbye and then jogged away from the body shop, heading in the direction of the airport.

"Michael…" Where had she'd heard that name before?

* * *

 **Where indeed?**

 **Also, Michael. I like 'im. I like Trevor and Franklin, too, so it's really no different from the first two chapters.**

 **Here you go, Alex. You know all three of the main characters, now. Let's see where this takes you, I guess.**


	4. The First Job

**Hey, alright. So, yeah. This is the chapter where stuff starts to get good, so... one chapter a week, until I realize that's taking to long and I start uploading two chapters a week instead.**

 **Yeah. Sounds about right.**

* * *

"Hey Red. You remember that guy we met before? The one who was a little…?"

"Right, Michael. What about him?" Alex queried.

"He called me a little while ago and said he had a job that we could help him with," Franklin responded.

Alex frowned. "What kind of job?"

"Y'know, a _job_."

 _Oh_.

"Uhm… I mean, I guess so. So, does that mean I have to come down to LS?" she asked him.

"Yeah, and you might want to hurry, too," Franklin answered. "I sort of had to convince Michael to let you help."

 _Great_. Alex let out a breath and glanced over her shoulder into the trailer. "Okay, I'll be there as quick as I can. Do I meet you at your house?"

"Yeah," Franklin agreed.

"I'll see you soon, then." Alex hung up her phone and called to Trevor. "Hey, T, I'm heading down to Los Santos for a little bit. I'll be back soon."

Trevor came out of the trailer as she walked down off of the porch, looking crestfallen. "You don't want to stay here with me?"

"I have other things to do, T," she responded, heading towards her Mesa. "I'll call you when I'm done, all right?"

He muttered something to himself as she climbed up into the Mesa and reached down to start it. Waving to him, she drove away from the trailer and towards the freeway, wondering what the hell they were doing a _job_ for.

And how the hell she was going to get through said job without falling down and crying from fear.

She sucked in a deep breath. _You want to impress Michael, Alex. Just… remember that. He'll get you somewhere that Trevor can't._

 _Not that Trevor is a bad mentor, just that... I came to LS to do something other than deal drugs, which is all Trevor does._

She drove down to LS, which took a good two hours, and then another thirty minutes passed as she drove to Franklin's. He was waiting outside for her on the curb, and he stood up as she pulled up across the street from him.

"What's up?" she asked as he led her to his Buffalo.

"Well, Michael has a bit of a thing going on with a crazy Mexican," Franklin explained. "He caught his wife in bed with some tennis coach, and we pulled a house off of a hill, thinking it was the coach's. Turns out it was actually the Mexican's girlfriend's house, and now Michael has to finance a rebuild."

"I see," Alex said thoughtfully. "So, what, we're robbing something, then?"

"Yeah, Mike said he got a thing set up at some jewelry store. He said you could help with the job."

"You didn't have to get him to add me to it, Franklin."

Franklin shrugged. "He asked if you'd be interested, and I said that I didn't know. That's when I convinced him that you probably would, and he agreed after a little bit of persuasion. He wouldn't have if I hadn't told him you'd be up for it."

"I don't know if I will be, Frankie," Alex said, looking out her window. "I mean, I've never done anything like this before. My whole crime life has been dealing drugs, first in LC and now here. I've never robbed anything in my life, not even a convenience store."

"Well, shit, I don't think it'll be too much work," Franklin told her. "I mean, how hard can it be to smash some glass and steal some jewels?"

"I don't think that's the hard part," Alex mumbled.

Franklin drove a bit longer before he pulled into the parking lot of a garment factory. "C'mon," he said, climbing out. "Michael's got some friend named Lester who owns this place."

"Lester?"

"Yeah. Mike said he's real smart with all kinds of shit, though computers are his specialty." Franklin opened the door of the factory for her, and Alex entered the building, jogging up a set of stairs to the next floor. There was a short man sitting behind one of the tables with sewing machines on it, a cane leaning against the table. He looked up as she and Franklin came up the stairs, and she saw he had glasses.

"Hey, you Franklin and Alex?" he queried, using the cane to stand and approach them.

"Yeah," Franklin said. He held out his hand, and the guy shook it briefly. "I'm Franklin Clinton, this is Alex."

"No last name, Alex?" the guy queried.

"Not one that I like to use, no," Alex responded.

The guy sniffed. "I'm Lester Crest. I trust Michael told you about what we're doing?"

"He said you'd give us the full run down when the whole crew got here," Franklin answered.

Lester let out an annoyed sigh. "Of course he did," he grumbled. "Making me do all the work." He turned away from them and headed into a room to the left of the stairs, muttering to himself. Franklin and Alex exchanged a bewildered glance, and Lester stopped, turning to look at them over his shoulder. "Are you coming or what?" he asked.

"Oh, sorry," Alex apologized, following him into the room with Franklin on her heels. Lester gestured to a couch with his cane while he approached a tack board in the corner of the room and studied it.

Franklin took a seat on the couch while Alex glanced around the room. There was a nice computer set up on a drafting table against the far wall. Lester _was_ into electronics, in a big way. She approached the computer to see what kind it was, and Lester snapped, "Stay away from that."

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, jumping backwards.

He huffed. "I mean, you can _look_ at it, I guess, but don't touch anything."

"No, I'm good," Alex responded, hurrying over to the couch and sitting down beside Franklin, hands clenched together in her lap.

Two guys and a female entered the room as soon as she sat down, and Lester waved them in. "Come in, come in," he said to them. They gazed around the room as he shut the door behind them and walked back over to the board. "So, as you all know, we're here to pull off a job. And no, it's not a normal, everyday kind of job, it's a robbery. A jewelry store robbery to be exact." He glanced down at the phone he had in his left hand. "I was hoping our crew leader would be here to talk you through it, but he isn't yet, so –" He cut off as his phone started ringing. "Oh, good."

He answered it, listened for a moment, and then said, "Alright, then this score is ready to go. Come upstairs and meet the crew." He hung up the phone and nodded to himself. "Good, he's on his way up."

Within a minute, Michael was up the stairs and talking to them. He was dressed in a suit, and Alex realized with growing disdain that they were all wearing suits, aside from the girl. Maybe that was a good thing, then. "Alright," Michael said. 'I wanna say thanks for being a part of our little operation. We're all professionals, we all know the score."

 _Sure_ , Alex thought to herself with an eye roll.

"We're gonna execute the plan. We're gonna move quick, and we're gonna keep cool." Michael really liked to use his hands when he talked. He also shifted his weight from foot to foot. If he had been acting, the director would have killed him. "Anybody gets pinched, this meeting never took place. We don't know each other, is that clear?"

Everyone gave him nods, and he looked at Lester, giving him a gesture to speak.

"Now, we've looked very, very carefully at the plans. We considered something more complicated, but given the location, the weakness of staffing and exit points, we believe that a more simple plan will work best."

Michael took over again, with his hand gestures. "We're gonna hack in, disable security, then waltz right in through the front door. Security guard should be too our left. We neutralize him, fifteen seconds later, you come in," he said, pointing to a fellow with dark hair. "I want extreme pressure applied to the staff. The customers should be calmly subdued. I want one guy on crowd control, while me and the other two empty out the merchandise from the cabinets."

He seemed to meet everyone's eyes at least once, though Alex noticed that he gazed at her a few moments longer. She silently pulled the jacket she was wearing tighter over her tank top with a silent huff. Michael moved on and addressed the rest of the room: "We're in and out in ninety seconds, guys." He looked at Franklin. "Franklin'll handle your getaway. Me and one other guy will leave on foot. Any questions?"

 _Only eighty,_ Alex thought.

"Good luck everyone," Lester said to them.

"Let's go," Michael said, heading for the door. "Paige, you're in the truck with the bikes. Other three, you're with me and Frank. You all sit in the back; Franklin's driving, and I'm in the passenger seat."

And so, Alex found herself sitting on the floor of a black van, her back pressed against the driver's seat as they drove towards what would be her very first robbery. As they drove along, Michael started speaking again: "Alright, listen up. The five of us in this van – we're about to become accomplices in a major crime. I gotta be able to trust you with my life, my liberty, my reputation. Same goes the other way. A crew will only work - only work - when there is trust. So, in the interest of fostering that type of relationship in the short time that we've got, let me introduce myself."

 _Great. I'm going to have to share my last name, aren't I?_

"I'm Michael. I've done this type of thing before, more than a few times, and I've made good money doing it, enough to spend a long time not doing it. I hope it goes without saying, I know a lot of people. Anyone yaps, about me, or anyone of you, you'll be dealt with. Got it? Good. Now, Frank, over to you."

"Uh… yeah man, I'm Franklin, dog, and I'm new to these planned out detailed robberies. I done my share of small jobs, you know – liquor stores, warehouses, boosting cars. And then I met this dude right here, Michael, man, and he turned me onto this thing," Franklin said.

 _So, no last name, then?_

"So, who's next?" Michael queried.

"I'm Gustavo, Gus Mota," the guy with the dark hair said. He went on to explain how he's from East LS, and had been a part of a gang there, but how they weren't allowed to tell anyone because he would need them later on. Alex didn't really get it, but hey, she wasn't saying anything.

"I'm Alex," she introduced herself next. "I'm new to Los Santos, not so new to the types of things that go on around the city. Where I'm from, Liberty City, there's a lot worse stuff goin' on. I met Michael around the same time Franklin did and uh… I guess I was kind of turned onto this thing, too."

 _Nice, A,_ she praised herself. _Short, sweet, to the point._

"Alright," Michael commented from the front seat. "And this is Eddie Toh. He knows how to keep quiet, and he knows his vehicles. He's the one who chose the bikes that two of you will be riding away on today after we clear out the store. He's good, and that's all you need to know."

As soon as he'd finished speaking, they found themselves in front of a store with a sign over it saying "Vangelicos". Alex didn't know what to do with herself until Michael passed her a black biker helmet. "Put that on, and keep it on," he said. "From here on out, no one says anything but initials, got it?"

They all nodded, and he let out a breath. "Let's go."

They all climbed from the van, and Michael handed them carbine rifles before he entered the jewelry store with Gus. She and Eddie followed right behind. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your moment!" Michael announced as Gus whacked the security guard to left of the door over the head with his gun. "Please don't make me ruin all the great work your plastics surgeons have been doing. On the floor, now!"

Immediately, all of the customers lowered themselves to the ground, hands up over their heads. Michael turned to Eddie, thankfully, and said, "Keep them under control while we get the jewels." He then turned to Alex and Gus. "Go, go, go, go!"

Immediately, Gus raced for the cabinets near the center of the store. Alex hesitated long enough for Michael to notice, and he pushed her forward gently with his gun. "We don't have long, A," he said firmly. "Grab the shiny stuff."

"Right," she muttered, ramming the butt of her gun into the glass of one and loading all the gems inside it into the bag hanging around her shoulders. She did the same to the one next to it, and then moved onto another one, chanting to herself in her head.

 _Hit. Grab. Breath. Hit. Grab. Breath._

It was a nice chant, but it was taking too damn long. She needed to move faster, but not fast enough to get sloppy. She flinched when one of the women customers screamed, and she heard Eddie say, "Get back on the floor!"

"Good crowd work, E," Michael praised. "You're worth whatever we're paying you."

 _I'm not, probably_ , Alex thought with a sigh. She was about to break more glass when someone grabbed her around the neck. She let out a cry of panic as the cold metal of a gun was pressed against her back. One of the employees had grabbed a gun from somewhere.

"A!" Michael exclaimed.

"Get out of my store right now," the employee growled. He must be the manager.

Why was that the only thought that came to her head?

Alex's instinct was to shoot, but she knew that would be the wrong decision. Instead, she went slack in the guy's hold, acting like she'd passed out. This gave him a bit of a shock, and she immediately reached up with her gun and pulled his head forward against the helmet she was wearing, hard enough to knock him out. He fell to the ground behind her, allowing her to jump away from him.

In her sudden movement, she set off the alarm keypad that was on the wall with her elbow.

"Shit," she muttered.

"It's alright, we got it all," Michael said, coming up to her and grabbing her arm. "Let's move, now!"

They all rushed out of the store to find Franklin sitting on the back of a bike, arguing with some guy. "So for the last time, move it," the guy was saying.

"Man, get the fuck out my face!" Franklin exclaimed.

Michael grabbed the guy by the shoulders and tossed him to the ground. "You forget a thousand things every day, pal," he said. "Make sure this is one of them."

He passed his bag off to Franklin, and Eddie grabbed Alex's. "The three of you with bags, get on the bikes. We'll see you at the river. Go!"

Immediately, the three males rode off, and Michael grabbed Alex's arm. "C'mon," he said. "Paige is with the truck around the corner. We got to get to the river."

She followed after him down the block, and indeed, there was the truck. Michael climbed into the driver's seat, and Alex jumped up beside Paige on the other side. "How'd it go, boss?" she asked Michael.

"We cleaned out the store, but the cops are hard on our tail," Michael said, thankfully not telling her about Alex's troubles. "Let's go."

The drove towards the LS River, cop cars speeding by them to get there first. "Shit," Alex exclaimed. "Can't this thing move any faster?"

"It moves about as fast as you," Michael told her, which made her close her mouth immediately. He was right; she had been slow, and the manager had been able to grab her. Sloppy. She'd never forgive herself for how badly that had gone.

The made it to the river in time to see a squadron of police cars already there ahead of them. "Contact the boys, tell them there's a bit of a meeting party waiting for them," Michael said to Paige, who immediately reached up and touched a button on a black thing in her ear.

"LSPD know you're coming out at the river," she said. "We're here to help, but be prepared for a little heat."

"What is that thing?" Alex asked, eyeing the black thing.

"It's called a headset, an earpiece headset," Michael explained. "You didn't get one."

"Why?" she asked hotly.

"I don't know your last name."

 _Fuck_.

They pulled down into the river after the cop cars. The three bikes burst out of the sewers, and Michael pressed down on the gas to speed up. "Hang in there, boys," he said into what Alex assumed was his own earpiece. "I got this covered."

He rammed the truck between two of the police cars before following the bikes across the river and hitting a third into a fourth. Further up, a fifth pulled out of a sewer opening, and the truck sent it spinning into the river. The sixth met the same end, and Paige said, "It looks clear. Good work, boss."

"Aright, we got a window," Michael said. "Let's stop at the end of the river, and get the bikes in the truck."

He pulled up alongside the bikes, and the three of them rode up into the back of the truck before Michael was able to drive off again.

"Man," Franklin exclaimed, loud enough to be heard through the wall between the cab and the back. "We did not just get away with that."

"You know what?" Michael asked him. "I think we did."

It didn't take them long to get to the lockup, and when they did, they all climbed out of the truck and found Lester was waiting for them.

"Alright people," Michael said. "We need to split up, they're going to be looking for a crew."

"I'll wire your cuts when the rocks have been sold," Lester told them.

"That shit was crazy, dog," Franklin said with a head shake. "So, what now?"

"We get out of here, and keep our heads down," Lester responded.

"Hey, you did good kid," Michael praised Franklin. "What did I tell you, Lester, huh?" Alex bowed her head, pulling off her helmet as she did so. "Aright, look, everybody take off."

The crew nodded and started to walk away. Alex lingered, because Franklin was her ride. "Franklin, hey, Lester and I got a few things to clean up, but I want you to stop by my house later, and we'll celebrate," Michael said to him.

Franklin glanced sideways at Alex, and then said, "Alright," before walking over and taking her arm to pull her along with him. Not that she needed to be convinced to go.

"God, I'm such an idiot," she muttered to herself as they waited for the cab Franklin called.

"Why? It's not your fault that dude grabbed you," Franklin said.

"How do you know about that?"

"I saw it happen from outside, Red," Franklin answered. Alex sighed and shook her head in frustration, and Franklin reached over to touch her arm. "Listen, you're cool, okay?"

"No, I'm not," she sighed. "Michael didn't invite me to come celebrate. That means I disappointed him. So much for becoming a part of whatever thing you guys have going on."

"Red –"

"No, Franklin, it's cool," she said. "I was slow, clumsy. It happened because I wasn't being professional. I shouldn't have even tried to help."

The cab pulled up, and they rode it to Franklin's house in silence. Once there, she climbed out of it and gave Franklin a small grin. "Tell Michael I'm sorry, okay?"

"You sure you don't want to stay here, and then come with me to tell him yourself?" Franklin asked her.

Alex hesitated. She _wanted_ too, but she knew that she couldn't. Shouldn't, rather. "Nah," she said. "Michael probably hates me enough as it is. I don't want to crash the celebratory party between mentor and protégé." She waved goodbye and jogged across the street to her Mesa, feeling tears in her eyes.

Why she was crying, she had no idea. Maybe because she knew she'd fucked up, and she had wanted to impress Michael, to prove that Franklin had been right about her being able to do a job. Clearly, however, she couldn't, and she'd shown it.

"Fuck," she muttered as she pulled onto the freeway to return to Sandy Shores. "I should never have gone with Franklin to Michael's house that day."

* * *

 **Oh, sad. Now Michael will _never_ like you, Alex.**


	5. Ghost? Uh-oh

**Yo, new chapter time! Hurray! It's a lot of... canon stuff... but it's Trevor's canon stuff, so it's the best kind of canon stuff.**

 **Hurray for Trevor.**

* * *

"Trevor, can't you take that shit into the bedroom?" Alex asked him from where she was sitting on the couch. Trevor was busy ramming his penis into the redhead he'd found outside of the trailer, and not paying attention to her.

Alex huffed and stood up to turn the volume up on the TV. She was keeping an eye on the news to make sure they hadn't found out who was involved with the robbery of the jewelry store that the crew had hit.

She turned it up just as the guy who Michael had thrown on the ground was recollecting what had happened. Alex sat back down on the couch as he said, "This other guy runs out the shop and pushed me over and says something like "You forget thousands of things every day. You make sure this is one of 'em." Immediately, the sound of Trevor's grunts halted, as did the rattling of the bottles that were on the counter.

Alex looked over at him. Trevor was reaching down and pulling up his pants, staring at the TV in shock. "That was pretty scary," the guy finished.

The reporter looked at the camera. "Back to you at the studio."

Alex stood and turned the TV off, watching Trevor all the while. The redhead looked at him as he gazed at the now black TV screen. "You wanna get lit now, sugar?" she asked him. Trevor blinked a few times and walked away from her, heading outside. "Tr-Trevor, baby, you wanna smoke up, now?"

Alex pushed her out of the way outside after Trevor, worried for him. He looked like he was about to fall over. Wade and Ron were approaching with some guy wearing a leather jacket, one of the bikers from The Lost MC. He was red with rage.

"Trevor!" he shouted. "You been with my girl again?"

Trevor walked past him, not paying attention. "Don't do it, Johnny," Ron warned as the biker followed him to the road. "I told him, Trevor, I told him."

"We all get high!" Johnny shouted after Trevor. "We all get high, but that don't make it right!"

Wade stepped in front of Johnny and held him back as the redhead came onto the porch behind Alex, saying, "Leave it, Johnny. Leave it."

"The crystal has got us babe, but that don't make it right. Don't make nothing right," Johnny said. He turned back around and stalked after Trevor. Alex hurried down the stairs and joined Wade and Ron as they went after him across the street to where Trevor had stopped.

"I'm telling you, Johnny, leave it!" Ron told him.

"I ain't leavin' nothin'!" Johnny responded angrily. "Trevor! I'm talking to you motherfucker!" He ran across the street and stopped behind him. Trevor stopped walking and turned around to face him.

"You are?" he asked. "What are you sayin'?"

Fuckin' my girl man. It's wrong," Johnny told him.

"Well, I got to fuck someone," Trevor told him. "You want me to fuck you instead, is that the problem here?" Trevor leaned close to Johnny. "Take off your pants, cowboy, alright? Let's - let's fuck."

"You think this is funny?" Johnny asked, gaping at him.

"Get them off!" Trevor shouted.

"I told him to leave it, Trevor," Ron said as they crossed the street to them. "I told him. Leave it."

"He did!" Wade agreed. "He did!"

"Shut up, Ron," Trevor snapped before turning back to Johnny. "I'm about to fuck me a meth head, ain't I, cowboy? Get my boy sucked from his toothless gums."

"Fuck you, Trevor," Johnny grunted, looking away from him. "I still love her."

The redhead gasped as Trevor approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Alright, cowboy, I know." Johnny sniffled, and Trevor hushed him. "Hey, c'mon. Shh… Hey..."

"I don't mean nothing by it, man," Johnny sighed. "I just - I just… I messed up."

"I know, cowboy," Trevor told him gently. "It's okay, man." He turned Johnny around to face him. "Gimme a hug, yeah? Shh…" He pulled the biker into his arms and hugged him for a moment before he wrapped his hand around his throat and smashed his beer bottle against his face and threw him to the ground.

"You shit!" he shouted as he started to stomp on Johnny's head with his boot. With every stomp, he shouted the word, "Cunt!" Three "cunts" later, he backed away from Johnny, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Who the fuck are you speaking too?" he demanded of the dead Johnny. "Who? Who? I'm talking to you, huh? You fuck!"

"Johnny," the redhead whispered hoarsely, pale.

"Next time, don't get in my fucking face. I just saw a fucking ghost, and I've got to hear your crap?" Trevor asked him. Alex flinched. A ghost? He didn't mean Michael's line, did he? "Get up!" Trevor commanded. "Get up!" When Johnny didn't rise, he waved his hand at him. "Fuck you, then."

He stalked away and the redhead ran to Johnny, crying. Ron followed Trevor, and so did Alex after a moment. Wade started to go to the redhead, but Ron called him back, and Wade hurried after them to Trevor's truck.

"That dopey cowboy's forced our hand!" Trevor shouted. "We gotta find the rest of the Lost." He climbed into the truck, and Ron followed his lead, climbing into the passenger's seat. Alex and Wade hopped into the bed, and Trevor started up the engine before driving out of the driveway and heading down the road towards the Lost's hangout.

As he drove, he looked over his shoulder. "Wade. This ghost I saw. His name is Michael Townley." A cold shiver ran down Alex's spine as he said it. "Sounds like he's living in Los Santos. Find him."

"Really?" Wade asked as Alex tried to breath properly again. "My cousin's there, but I - I don't…"

"Find him, Wade!" Trevor ordered sharply.

"Does this mean I don't have to come see the bikers?" Wade asked after a moment.

"We're in a hurry, but not that much of a hurry," Trevor responded.

"But, if we bury Johnny in the desert, and then quiet down that bitch Ashley you was in, then they don't need to find out about it," Wade said.

"You think it's clever to disrespect women?" Trevor asked him.

"Disrespect? What? I wasn't disrespecting, I was just saying we should kill her!" Wade exclaimed.

"You called her a bitch," Trevor explained. "Ain't you got a mother?"

"Well, sure!" Wade said. "Everybody's got mothers. At least one."

They reached the farm, and Ron said, "They're over at that place, on the right."

Trevor pulled in and climbed out of the truck as one of the bikers asked, "Hey, you seen Ashley? Johnny's looking for her." Wade handed Alex and Ron pistols as they hopped out and followed Trevor, pointing their guns at the bikers.

"Oh, you know as a matter of fact I just did," Trevor told him. "Yeah, I saw her on the end of this penis here."

"Johnny ain't gonna be cool if you messing with her again," one of the other bikers said.

"Oh really? What, you don't think so, huh? Well, why don't we just ask him then?" Trevor lifted his boot off of the ground and started to talk to it as the bikers exchanged looks of surprise and shock. "Hey, hey cowboy, do you mind that I fucked your old lady? Sorry, what was that? What? No, no? You don't mind? Oh, because you're a dead man, and the only sentient part of you left is this little bit of brain and the gristle on the end of my boot?" Trevor threw the pink thing he'd scrapped off of his shoe into the sand and looked up at the Lost. "Well, thank you very much, cowboy!"

"Bullshit!" one of the biker's exclaimed.

"Oh, I like it!" Trevor said, pointing to him. "Denial! That is the first part of the grieving process, brothers. Now, let's all hold hands, huh?" None of the bikers responded, but one hopped from foot too foot nervously. "Well, it looks like you got something you want to say. You got something you need to say?" Trevor asked him.

The bikers climbed onto their bikes as one ran to a big black van. "This better be bullshit!" one that remained behind said as he revved his engine and then drove off.

"Where you guys going, huh?" Trevor called as they raced away. Alex and the others hurried back over to the truck and climbed in just as Trevor turned the truck on to chase after them. "Alright, we follow the van back to the rest of them, then the Lost MC are out of this region for good."

He pulled out his gun and started shooting at the bikers on the bikes, saying, "We can take down the bikers, but not the van." He finished them off quickly. "Alrighty-roo. Now we just sit on this guy' till he gets to them."

"Did you see the look on their faces?" Ron asked happily.

"We scared 'em, didn't we?" Wade queried.

"Yeah, thank fuck they didn't make you for the harmless idiots you are!" Trevor agreed. "Well, except for Alex. She's more imposing than the both of you."

"Thanks, Trev," Alex said to him, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that he knew who Michael was and why he had him with a different name. "Hey, who's this Michael guy you're having Wade look for?"

"I'll explain it all to you when we're done dealing with these bikers!" Trevor told her.

"I don't think we'll take care of 'em all in this go, boss," Ron said. "I mean, there'll be some by that airstrip, and some over you know, by that…"

"If not today, their time will soon be upon them," Trevor said.

They drove in silence for a bit, the only sound being the rock station playing on Trevor's radio. They reached an area of road where it split and led to a small jump. "Keep left!" Ron urged. "We might be able to jump there."

Trevor did as he said, and the truck sailed over the small gap, Alex and Wade holding on for dear life. They landed back on the road behind the van, Trevor whooping.

"Do we know where they're going yet?" Wade queried after a moment.

"I got an idea, yeah."

"Once we know for sure, you can drop me and Wade at the trailer," Ron said. "Maybe you and Alex can grab Chef and bring him to finish them."

"We do this now, Ron!" Trevor told him. "All of us! I got a taste for biker blood!" he went on in a sing-song voice.

The van just kept going, not pulling over. That was, until they reached a trailer park down the road aways. "Oh look! They're pulling over!" Ron said. "You did it, Trevor!"

Trevor stopped the truck, saying, "Hold the perimeter, fuckwits and Alex," he said, pulling out a shot gun. "Daddy's going to work." He ran into the trailer park, shouting something nonsensical. Alex, Ron and Wade all exchanged looks before they climbed out of the truck to do as Trevor asked.

They could see him shooting down any and all bikers that ran at him, singing loudly as he did so. Alex could only shake her head; he was insane.

Within only ten minutes or so, the trailer park had gone quiet, so quiet you could almost hear the blood pouring out of dead Lost. Trevor returned to them, panting, holes in his shirt and blood coming from a wound on his shoulder. Alex ripped off a section of her shirt to help him, but he waved her off, climbing back into the truck.

"Wade, what are you still doing here?" he demanded as Wade started to climb in behind Alex.

"I uh… you said -"

"Michael Townley, remember?" Trevor asked him. Wade nodded dumbly, and Trevor pointed outside the truck. "Go find him. And pick me up some sticky bombs!"

Wade jumped out of the truck and ran off to do as Trevor told him. Trevor started up the truck and pulled away from the trailer park, saying, "We're dropping in on Ortega."

"The Aztecas?" Ron asked him. "That makes me nervous."

"Ah, don't be nervous, Nervous Ron," Trevor told him. "He'll be fine with the takeover."

"Takeover? Trevor!" Ron exclaimed in dismay. "We don't need to. Now the bikers are gone, it's just us, the Aztecas, and the O'Neils… the market's big enough. This Chinese contact's gonna buy crystal as fast as we can cook it."

Ron was talking about some Chinese company that was looking to buy meth from the communities in Sandy Shores. Trevor had been trying to get them to make a deal with TPI for a while.

They'd reached Ortega's trailer, and Trevor reversed so that the front of the truck was facing it. "There he is!" he said as Ortega appeared in a window, wearing pajamas. "Let's wake him up!"

He revved the engine a few times before flooring it. The truck jerked forward so fast Alex swore she got whiplash. It rammed into the trailer, pushing it into the river. Ortega flew out the door into the water to save himself from drowning. He rose up, coughing, and held out his arms as Trevor climbed from the truck.

"What the fuck, Trevor?" he demanded.

"This is the fuck, my soggy friend," Trevor told him, pointing his shotgun at him. "You are out of business. The Lost MC are out of business. The guns and crank in this area go through Trevor Philips Enterprise or they ain't going!"

"Saying something don't make it true!" Ortega exclaimed, climbing out of the river. Trevor held up his shotgun, and Ortega took a step back. "Whoa, man, easy."

Without a pause, Trevor pulled the trigger and shot him square in the face. Ortega flew backwards into the water from the force, and Trevor groaned. "That feels better!" he shouted, running back up the cliff to the truck. Alex and Ron followed him.

"I guess he don't run nothing no more," Ron laughed, climbing in. "Let's get out of here, man. Quick."

Trevor reversed and started driving back to Sandy Shores.

"I'm doing great!" he said happily.

"You sure achieved a lot today," Ron agreed.

"I figured it was time to get my affairs in order," Trevor told him.

"You goin' somewhere?"

"As soon as I find that specter on the TV. Michael Townley." Again, Alex was chilled. The way he said the name was… unnatural.

"Who is this guy?" she asked him, doing her best to sound confused.

"Michael Townley was the guy I used to run with," Trevor told her. "That is, until he went down on a heist. At least, I thought he went down. It seems like he's been playing me for a fool all this time, and made off with the cash from the job." Trevor's hands tightened around the steering wheel. "He won't be gone for long once I find him," he growled.

Alex swallowed thickly. Her fears were being confirmed. A long time ago, she'd heard about some group of robbers going on a heist. One of them had died, while one had been put in jail and the other had run off, only the one that had died hadn't died at all, and he'd merely been shipped off with a new identity. Michael and Trevor… good God, how had she'd managed to come in contact with both of them?

"Hey, Alex," Trevor said to her, pulling her out of her thoughts, "since you spend time in LS, will you look for him, too? I'd appreciate it."

"S-Sure, T," Alex replied nervously. "I'll do that." _Fuck me. What am I supposed to do? I can't let Trevor find Michael; he might kill him._

She blinked. Maybe this would be her way of getting back in Michael's good graces after screwing up in the jewelry story job. She'd tell him Trevor was coming for him, and he'd be grateful for the information.

The frown on her face turned into a grin. Yes, that was how she'd do it. Everyone would be happy with her soon enough. At least… She hoped so.

* * *

 **Bye.**


	6. Do Your Best, Even Though It Won't Work

**Howdy folks. I see I've gotten a couple more people who seem to be interested in the tale of Alex. That's nice. I appreciate you.**

 **I'd also appreciate your reviews, so, hit me up in that area of the website, okay dolls?**

* * *

"Hey, Mikey!" Alex called to him as she climbed out of her Mesa and crossed the street to the gate of his house.

Michael lifted his head at her voice and let out a breath. "Alex, what did I say? We're supposed to lay low and avoid one another for a while."

Alex came to a halt outside the closed gates of his home. She grabbed onto the steel bars and gazed at him through the gap between two. "Just until Lester sold the jewels, right?" Michael didn't have any other choice than to nod, and Alex grinned at him. "As far as my account is concerned, he already did. So, we can talk." She hit her hand against the bars. "Open up."

Michael stared at her for a long moment before he sighed and reached into his car to hit a button. The gate slid open and Alex walked through, gazing around at the front yard. The only other time she'd been to Michael's was when she and Franklin had showed up to ask him for booze. It was a nice place.

She walked over to where Michael was standing with his Obey Tailgater. He gazed at her, a soapy towel in his hand. "Did you want something?" he questioned after a moment.

"Nah," she responded. "I just wanted to drop by and say hi." She lifted her hand in the form of a wave. "Hi."

"Hi," he said. She didn't say anything more, and he lifted an eyebrow. "You're still here."

"Yes," she agreed.

"Why?"

The smile fell from her face, and Alex sighed. She bowed her head and kicked at the ground. "Listen, Mikey -"

"Michael."

She glanced up at him. He wasn't smiling. "Michael. I uh… I wanted to give you a fair warning about something that may or may not be endangering to you."

Michael immediately gave her all of his attention. "Is that so?" he asked, setting down the towel on the hood of his car. "Tell me, then."

Alex cleared her throat. "Uh… well…"

"Alex." Michael gave her a look. "What's going on?"

Alex grimaced. "Uhm… does… does the name Trevor Philips mean anything to you?"

Michael went pale. "Why?" he asked carefully.

"Well…" Alex licked her lips. "He may be looking for you."

"What?" Michael sounded like he didn't believe her. "Alex, that doesn't make any sense. Trevor -" He cut himself off and looked away. "Trevor's supposed to be in prison, if he's not dead already."

"Well, he's not," Alex responded. "He lives in Sandy Shores, and runs a drug enterprise." She gazed at Michael. "How do you two know each other?" He didn't have to know she'd already heard Trevor's side.

"How do _you two_ know each other?" Michael demanded.

Alex decided to give him the short version. "He sort of kidnapped me."

"Yeah, that sounds like Trevor," Michael muttered. He glanced towards the street and then back at his house before looking at her. "C'mon, I'll explain inside."

Michael led her into the house and to the living room. They sat down on the white leather couch and Michael let out a breath. Alex gazed at him, waiting.

"Trevor and I used to be partners," he began after a moment. "He and I were a team. We pulled off more heists than I can count, but I remember every last one of them."

"But… something happened," Alex said, leaning back.

Michael nodded. "Yeah, something happened." He shook his head. "I decided that I couldn't do what we were doing anymore, because of my family, so I… I faked my death and came to live down here in Los Santos with a new identity."

Alex let out a small breath. Michael was definitely the guy she'd heard about. "Witness protection?"

Michael looked at her in surprise. "Yeah. How'd you -?" She shook her head, and he looked down at the floor. "Anyway, Trevor… I haven't heard anything about him in a long time. What - how does he know I'm alive?"

"It's a bit of a story, Michael," Alex said. "I don't know if you want to hear the whole thing."

Michael gazed at her for a long moment. He then reached over to the side table and poured a shot of whisky. Instead of drinking it himself, however, he held it out to her.

"I guess I'd better get comfortable," he commented.

Alex took the glass and swallowed the alcohol. It burned in her throat, and she winced. "Well…"

She told Michael everything, starting from her arrival in Los Santos to Trevor hearing about the heist on the TV, and Michael's words repeated by the witness. "I drove down here as soon as I could," she said when Michael's head drooped. "I don't know what Trevor has against you, Michael, but he's not happy."

In truth, she knew exactly why Trevor wanted to find him. He was pissed, and understandably so. Michael had been playing dead for ten years.

Michael shook his head. "He's probably pissed that I've risen from the dead. Me and my stupid movie quotes." He rubbed his hand over his face. "Al - can I call you Al?"

"Only if I can call you Mikey," Alex replied, unable to hide a grin.

Michael gazed at her closely. "Do you think you could stop Trevor from coming here?" he asked at last.

Alex didn't like the sound of that. "Uh… not really. I don't argue with him, Mikey. He's…" She twirled a circle in the air with her finger beside her temple.

"Yeah, I know, and that's why I don't him coming to Los Santos. He'll make my life hell, Al."

"Well, maybe you should have considered that before you decided to fake your death and run away," Alex told him.

"I didn't have a choice!" Michael retorted. "I had a family to think about, and I still do." Alex gazed at him, and Michael held out his hands pleadingly. "Please. Try, at least."

Alex sighed. She had to try, in order to retain whatever forgiveness she'd gotten already, and maybe gain more. "I'll do my best, but I can't promise anything."

"I know," Michael said with a nod. "Believe me, I do."

They both stood, and Michael led her to the front door. He pulled it open and gazed at her with at her a grin. "Thank you, Alex. Really."

"Don't thank me yet," Alex said. "I haven't done anything." She saluted him. "I'll see you later, Michael." She then turned and jogged away down the driveway to the sidewalk outside of the gate.

Once there, she stopped and glanced towards the house. Michael was standing outside, watching her. Alex pretended like she hadn't seen and walked across the street to where she'd parked her Mesa.

Stop Trevor? How the hell was she supposed to do that? She couldn't just tell him he wasn't allowed to go to Los Santos. Trevor would know she knew where Michael was, and she didn't think he'd let her get away with knowing about it.

Alex shook her head and slid into the driver's seat. She'd figure it out. Michael was a nice enough guy, and she didn't want his family to be bothered by Trevor. She knew what that was like, and it wasn't very fun.

As she drove away from Michael's house, her phone rang. She glanced down at the passenger's seat where it was laying, and she let out a small groan. Reaching over with one hand, she picked it up and answered it.

"Trevor."

"Where are you?" he demanded. "I've been trying to find you for hours."

"I drove down to Los Santos," she told him, trying to keep her voice even.

"Trying to find Michael, I hope," Trevor growled.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I was doing. I have some news."

"Good news?"

"Well -" She cut off when she heard yelling and gunshots on the other end. "What're you doing?"

"Just taking care of a small business deal gone wrong," Trevor responded. "Get here quick, princess. Sounds like we have a lot to talk about." He hung up without saying goodbye.

Alex sighed and tossed her phone down. What was she supposed to do now? She had news? What news? That Michael really was dead, and that it was just some guy using his MO and movie quotes?

"Oh, Alex," she groaned. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

($)

Alex pulled up outside of Trevor's trailer just as darkness fell and found Wade already there, peeking around the corner. Alex let out a breath and climbed from her Mesa just as Trevor threw open the door of his trailer.

"Wade!" he shouted, seeming to sense his presence. Wade panicked and started to run the opposite direction. "Get back here!" Trevor ordered, tone softer than Alex would have expected of him. He leaned over the railing on the side of the front porch. "Have you got it?"

Wade sighed and retreated back to the trailer a few paces. "I've been tryin', Trevor," he began. "I've been tryin'."

Trevor waved his hand. "Alright, get over here," he said. "I ain't gonna hit ya."

Wade approached the railing and started to climb over, saying, "I've been tryin'. I've been tryin'."

"I know, I know," Trevor told him. Wade was about to make it over the railing when Trevor reeled back and punched him hard. Alex winced as Wade fell onto his back into the dirt.

He groaned and looked up at Trevor. "I thought you said you wasn't gonna hit me?" he asked, rubbing the back of his head.

"I thought you said you were gonna find fuckin' Michael Townley," Trevor retorted, leaning over the railing towards him.

Wade sighed and started to sit up. Alex bit her lip, wondering if she should intervene before he said anything. "There are two Michael Townley's livin' in LS," he said. "One is eighty three, and the other is at kindergarten." He fell back and gazed up at the dark sky. "I asked the teacher to put him on the phone to be safe; she threated to call the cops - I ain't no molester, Trevor!"

Alex could see by Trevor's posture that he was starting to get mad. "Shut up before I molest you, alright? Is there anything else?" he demanded.

"Trevor!" Alex called just as Wade started to climb to his feet.

Trevor spared her a glance. "Did you find out anything?" he asked.

Alex kicked at the ground. "Well… maybe."

Trevor growled. She looked up just as he stalked off of the porch and stormed over to her. He grabbed the front of her shirt and lifted her a few inches off of the ground. Alex turned her head away as he breathed into her face: "What do you know, Alex?"

Wade saved her. "I-I looked through the phone directory and found a Michael De Santa!" he called. Trevor slowly turned away from Alex and looked at him. "About the right age… married with two kids."

Trevor didn't let her go, but instead pulled her over to where Wade was. "What's his wife's name?" he asked him.

Wade glanced at Alex, who gave him a despairing look, asking him to be quiet. He looked back at Trevor, however, and shied away from him. "Amanda."

Alex groaned, and Trevor gave her a glare. "What?"

"I - nothing," Alex muttered. She tugged at his hand, which had her shirt locked in it. "Can you let me go, please?"

"Alex, tell me what you know right now," Trevor said darkly, tightening the grip he had on her shirt. Alex avoided his gaze and Trevor shook her. "You know where he lives, don't you?"

"No!"

"Alex!"

She grimaced when she saw the muscles on his neck poking through his skin. Trevor was about to explode. _I'm sorry, Michael._ "He - he lives in Rockford Hills," she whispered.

"There," Trevor said. He released her shirt, and Alex stumbled backwards away from him. "That's all you needed to say." He walked closer to her and leaned down to her level. "The real question here, however, is why you didn't want me to know that." He leaned towards her and tried to make her eyes meet his. When she wouldn't, he grabbed her chin in his fingers and lifted her head. "Why didn't you want me to know, Alex?"

"Because I didn't want you to do something stupid. He… he seems like a nice enough guy, and I didn't want you to go down to his house and kill him," Alex said choosing to stare at him rather than turn her eyes away again.

Trevor gazed at her for a long moment. "How do you know him?" he asked at last.

"I -" Alex let out a breath. "Remember that day you thought I was going to the car dealership? I-I was actually meeting up with Michael for the heist we saw on TV."

"So you lied to me," Trevor said shortly. Alex nodded weakly, and Trevor let go of her chin. "You aren't the first one to lie to me about a job."

She bowed her head, knowing that he was talking about Michael. "I - I'm not Michael, T," she told him softly. "Please don't be angry. I just wanted to keep you from doing something stupid."

"I'm not going to do anything stupid," Trevor muttered. "I just want to know why he's been hiding for ten years." He turned away from her and looked at Wade. "It looks like we're going to Los Santos."

Wade blinked. "We?"

Ron, as though he'd heard Trevor's words, appeared from inside his own trailer, fixing his glasses. "We?"

"Not you," Trevor responded, pushing Wade in the direction of his truck. "Me, Wade and Alex."

"B-But…"

"Ron, you are CEO of Trevor Philips Enterprises. Get us some business so we can make some money!" Trevor told him, casting a glance around his front yard. "And tidy up my shit."

Ron didn't know what else to say, and so he retreated back into his trailer with a sad look on his face. Trevor gestured for Wade to get into the truck. "Let's go."

"Are we gonna stop for ice cream?" Wade asked hopefully.

Alex was about to follow, but Trevor shook his head. "Nope. You are going to drive separate."

"What? Why?"

"You are going to make sure he stays at his house so that when I show up for my "visit", he's there." Trevor gestured towards her Mesa. "Get your pretty red self into your pretty red car and go."

Alex sighed, but did as he said. Turning the key, she started up the Mesa and pulled away from Trevor's trailer, heading for the freeway. In a small, screwy kind of way, fate was on her side. Since she was going alone, she could warn Michael about Trevor's arrival and, hopefully, do her best to make it seem like she'd done all in her power to keep Trevor away.

She glanced down at her phone. Everything would be so much easier if she had Michael's number.

Driving back to Los Santos at night was probably one of the most dangerous things she had ever done. Alex hated driving at night, and with the other drivers in Los Santos, it made it even more dangerous.

It was three in the morning when Alex reached Rockford Hills. She pulled up in front of Michael's house and groaned, resting her forehead against the steering wheel. She must have dozed off, however, because she was suddenly awoken by the blaring of her Mesa's horn.

"Augh!" she screeched, her head shooting upright. She glanced up when there was a light coming from Michael's house. It seemed like every light had suddenly been turned on. The front door opened and Michael himself emerged, holding a pistol in one hand.

Alex hurried out of her Mesa, holding up her hands. "Sorry, sorry!" she apologized quickly.

When Michael saw it was her, he sighed and lowered the pistol. He was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, and Alex kept her gaze on his face.

"What are you doing here, Al?" he asked.

"I-I came to tell you that Trevor's coming," she told him. "I-I tried, M. I'm sorry."

Michael closed his eyes. "It's alright, Al," he said after a moment. "It was probably inevitable at this point." He waved his free hand. "C'mon inside; you look dead on your feet."

Alex immediately shook her head. "No, I'll just sleep in my car, Mikey."

"You are going to sleep on my couch," Michael said shortly. "Let's go."

Alex didn't have the energy to argue further, even though guilt pounded through her as she stepped into Michael's house and he closed the doors.

A woman with dark hair, whom Alex assumed to be his wife Amanda, came down the stairs wearing a bath robe. "Michael, what is going on?" she asked, eyeing Alex closely.

"This is Alex," Michael said stiffly. "She's going to sleep on the couch." He started to walk towards the living room. "Al."

"Sorry, Mrs. De Santa," Alex apologized, hurrying after him.

Michael gestured to the couch when she came into the living room. "It's comfortable, at least," he told her.

"Thanks," she said, more guilt pressing against her chest. "This is really unnecessary."

"Hey, you drove a long way twice today," Michael responded. "You need a rest." He nodded to the couch. "This'll give you a better sleep than the driver's seat of your Mesa."

Alex settled down on the couch uncertainly. She adjusted a few times. "It's good. Thank you," she repeated.

"Goodnight, Al," Michael said with a small nod. He walked from the living room. She heard him go up the stairs, and listened to Amanda's muffled complaints above her as she removed her shoes. Alex couldn't really hear what she was saying, but she had a pretty good idea.

Alex sighed and laid down on the couch, shaking her head. "I'm really sorry, Michael," she whispered.

* * *

 **Good. Alex is in trouble. Unless, of course, Trevor doesn't do anything crazy.**

 **We'll see.**


	7. Shit-chapter

**Well. It took a lot of convincing from a friend of mine to post this next chapter, so... yep. If you're enjoying the story, you can say thank you to them.**

 **As for those who are having doubts... I'm sorry. I realize that Alex isn't the best character ever... I'm not very good at writing OCs, which is why I typically stick you those "you" drabbles. Y'know what I'm talking about? Where the reader is in the drabble? Yeah? Yeah. I write those.**

 **Maybe I should just... stick with that instead of doing this.**

 **Hopefully the next chapter will change a few minds about Alex because she's introduced a bit better there.**

 **I guess this can be considered the last "Shit-chapter" before things get... better? I dunno.**

 **Yeah. This chapter's title is going to be "Shit-chapter". Exactly like that.**

 **Good on me.**

* * *

Alex awoke to shouting. She blinked in surprise, for a moment forgetting where she was. She then spotted the giant wall TV, and remembered the events of earlier that morning and the day before.

She could hear Amanda shouting at Michael about something. Yawning, she sat up and rubbed at her eyes just as she heard someone say, "Namaste."

Amanda's voice immediately lowered, and she spoke again, must calmer this time. "Hello, Fabien darling. Namaste."

"Ah, you must be Michael!" the same voice said. "Namaste."

There was a momentary pause, and then Alex heard Michael: "Na-ma-go fuck yourself."

"Michael!" Amanda exclaimed. Alex chuckled to herself and started to pull on her shoes.

"You've got to work on your anger, brother!" the same voice, Fabien, said to him. Someone came down the stairs. "It's killing you."

"You're telling me. Ah, there you are, you little shit." The fridge opened, and Alex heard Michael again; "Looking for this?" There was a pause. "Ah, ah, ah, no."

"Very funny," Jimmy's voice said. "You know, you're a real asshole."

There was another pause. "What did you just fucking say to me?" Michael demanded.

"Stop it you two!" Amanda shouted. "You're ruining my fucking yoga!"

"Did somebody say yoga?" Trevor's voice queried.

Alex winced. How had she not heard him come into the house? Quickly, she hurried out of the living room and towards the kitchen, where the voices had come from. Trevor was standing before the three of them and some other guy with a man-bun, probably this Fabien guy.

Alex hurried forward and stepped in front of Trevor. "T…" she said quietly.

Trevor moved her out of the way and stepped further into the kitchen, holding out his arms.

"Trevor," Alex said, more firmly this time. She moved in front of him again and pushed him backwards. "Don't."

"I'm not gonna do anything," Trevor told her. He looked past her towards Michael. "I just want to say hello."

Alex glanced over her shoulder at Michael. "I'm sorry," she mouthed to him.

He merely shook his head in response and looked at his old running buddy. "Trevor," he said.

"Michael…" Trevor replied, gazing at him easily.

"Hey," Michael greeted. "It's good to see you again, man."

"Yeah, I bet it is," Trevor said with a nod. "Course, I'm not the one that's been resurrected." He glanced around the kitchen. "Ain't this grand?"

"Yeah, well, I got in a bit of an awkward situation," Michael said, moving to stand in front of Jimmy as Trevor moved closer.

"Hmm, yeah, you're telling me, bro," Trevor mused. "One of those fake your own death to your best buddy and then run off with the dough and then live in a big mansion awkward situations."

The two of them stared at one another. "That's one way of looking at it," Michael agreed after a moment.

"Yeah? Do you have any other ways of looking at it?" Trevor asked. "'Cause, I am all out."

"It was a long time ago, man. I've been in witness protection, I still am," Michael explained.

Trevor made a noise like Michael had just answered all of his questions. "That's great!" he whispered sarcastically. "That's great!" He remembered there were others in the kitchen then. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, where are my manners?" He looked at Amanda. "Amanda, it is good to see you! I missed you. You used to be fatter. Nice new tits, by the way," he said, moving around Alex in her direction.

She stepped in front of him as he approached Jimmy again. Trevor gave her a small look before turning to Michael's son. "Jimmy, you used to be thinner, but eh, I can't blame you," he told him. He turned away and looked at man-bun. "Who're you?"

"Namaste," man-bun said. "I am Fabien."

"Ah… good lord..." Trevor took a step away from him and casted another glance around the kitchen. "Where's Tracey?"

Michael glanced at Jimmy. "Where's your sister, Jim?"

"Um… she's uh… she's trying out for TV."

That was news, apparently. Michael and Amanda turned to look at him in surprise. "She's what?" Michael demanded.

"Yeah, she's auditioning for _Fame or Shame_ ," Jimmy told them.

" _Fame or Shame?_ " Trevor asked, voice lowering.

"The fuck are you talking about?" Michael questioned.

"Y'know, it's that talent slash skill show. She loves it, you guys know that," Jimmy said carefully.

Michael and Amanda exchanged a look. "What's her talent?"

"Dancing."

"Oh Christ, she's a horrible dancer," Michael sighed.

"Michael!" Amanda warned.

"She might disagree with you on that," Jimmy mumbled.

"Jesus Christ," Michael groaned. "What, now?" He faced Jimmy. "Now? Where?"

"Uh…" Jimmy thought about it for a moment. "The Maze Bank Arena."

"Our little Tracey being humiliated," Trevor muttered, shaking his head. He looked at Michael. "Let's go, we go get her."

"We?" Michael asked dubiously, gesturing to the space between them.

"Yes, we. What are you gonna stand there and argue while your daughter becomes a national laughing stock, huh? You're worse than I thought. Now let's go, c'mon!" Trevor waved his hand, and Michael glanced at his family before moving. Trevor finally looked at Alex again. "You too, princess."

"It's too damn early for this," Alex sighed, but she followed after Michael out of the house all the same. The three of them slid into Michael's car, and he drove down the driveway onto the street.

"Y'know," Michael began, "I can probably handle this myself. What say we grab a beer in a few hours, catch up properly?"

"Oh, no, I need Alex here to make sure I don't kill you," Trevor told him, and Alex flinched. "Besides, I care about Tracey, too."

"She's my daughter," Michael said. "I'll handle it.'

Trevor scoffed. "Judging by past behavior and the state of the rest of your family, fuck only knows what that means."

"Hey, fuck you!"

"Yeah, you're a model husband and a wonderful parent, I can just tell," Trevor went on, ignoring him.

"You walk into my home and try to tell me how to run my family?" Michael asked with an incredulous snort. "It don't work like that, amigo." He glanced over at Trevor. "It's nice to see you and all, but you stink like piss, you got blood under your nails, and you look like you been up for, what, a week? Who the fuck are you too tell _me_ anything?"

Michael almost ran over a pedestrian during his rant, and Alex stuck her head between the two front seats. "Hey, guys –" she started, but Trevor cut her off.

"I'm someone who knows you, you fucking slippery snake!" he growled. "I know the second I leave you, you'll just go home."

"Guys?"

"We're gonna get your girl from there assholes," Trevor went on over her. "You're not abandoning her like you did me and Brad."

"Brad?" Alex was confused as hell now. "Who's Brad?"

Michael had visibly tensed at the mention of Brad. "Yeah," he said softly. "Brad."

"Poor motherfucker must have woken up handcuffed to a hospital gurney after that stunt of yours," Trevor told him. "He still writes to me from the joint, you know."

"Really?" Michael queried, sounding as confused as Alex felt.

"Yeah," Trevor responded.

"Okay," Michael said. There was a pause. "So… how you been doing?"

"Oh, I'm getting by. Aside from the loneliness and heartbreak, of course," Trevor said.

"C'mon, how heartbroken can you be?" Michael asked. "You've had Alex to keep you company, right?"

 _Thanks, Mikey,_ Alex thought to herself with an eye roll.

"Oh yes, Alex is just wonderful. She barely talks, and she doesn't seem to have any outstanding personality points, but at least she hasn't run out on me yet," Trevor responded with a shake of his head.

"Excuse me" Alex injected. "Who is Brad?"

"He was our other partner," Michael explained, glancing sideways at Trevor.

"Is," Trevor corrected. "He's in jail now, because of this fat fuck."

"Whoa, easy," Michael said. "It ain't my fault Brad got shot, alright?"

"No, but if you hadn't decided to die, Brad wouldn't have gotten shot, and everything would still be great!" Trevor put in.

"Trevor, I'm sure Michael had a good reason for doing what he did," Alex said gently. "I mean, you would've done the same if you'd had a family, right?"

"Not if it meant betraying my friends and leaving them in the dark," Trevor answered. "But, I'm sure that wasn't Michael's goal, right Mikey? I mean, why would you do that on purpose?"

Michael let out a heavy breath. "Right."

Alex glanced in his direction. "That wasn't a very strong agreement, Michael."

"Hey, who's side are you on?" he demanded.

"I don't know," Alex responded. "I don't know who's right, because no one has told me the full story!"

"You and me both, princess," Trevor agreed.

"Christ," Michael grumbled.

By this point, they'd reached the Arena, and Michael pulled into a parking spot. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Trevor urged, climbing out of the Tailgater and running for the doors. Michael followed on his heels, and Alex did so as well.

All three of them hurried inside, and Trevor stopped, gazing around the lobby. There were a bunch of prospective performers sitting in chairs, all practicing some talent or twiddling their thumbs.

"Ah, that host man, like any closeted TV producer, bitter as fucking vinegar," Trevor muttered.

"Where the fuck are they?" Michael asked as a guy with a clipboard approached them.

"Hello, sirs," he greeted. "Can I have your names?"

Trevor grabbed him. "Where the fuck is Tracey Townley? Tracey fucking De Santa – fuck, screw this! Where the fuck's Lazlow?" he shouted.

Clipboard guy pointed weakly, and Trevor threw him backwards before going in that direction. Alex and Michael followed him down a hallway towards a set of double doors. Outside were a group of performers waiting to audition. Trevor ignored them and slammed the doors right open into the audition room.

A kid was just finishing a dance in front of the table of judges and the cameras. He finished just as they entered, and a white guy with a ponytail clapped for him, stepping in front of the table in his place.

"Alright!" he said, speaking to the camera. " _Fame or Shame,_ season fourteen, right here in Vinewood, San Andreas, coming up next, it's Tracey De Santa!" He clapped again as Michael's daughter ran to join him. "Judges, it's Tracey De Santa, yes!"

"Hi!" she said as he pulled her closer.

"Alright," Lazlow went on, "Tracey's a dancer, but she also likes acting, modeling, and working with children." He grinned at her weakly. "Tracey, that's beautiful," he said. "You're so original. You're like a basket of puppies or a rainbow or a pile of puke." That's when he spotted Alex, Michael and Trevor. "Who are these clowns?"

Tracey glanced in their direction. "That's my dad and… Trevor?" She gasped, hurrying over to hug him. "Wow!" she exclaimed. "What are you guys doing here?" Trevor awkwardly returned her hug as Lazlow shook his head in annoyance to the judges.

"Yeah, what are you doing here?" he asked with a frown.

Tracey heard his annoyance and rejoined him. "Okay, I'm back," she said nervously.

Alex exchanged a look with Trevor as Lazlow spoke again. "At least she seems excited to see you," Alex whispered.

"It's because I cared about her more than Michael ever did," Trevor replied, "and she knew it."

Lazlow waved his hand at them to silence them, and then Tracey struck a pose as he counted down from three. "Alright, its fame or shame for Tracey De Santa. Music!"

Immediately, Rick James's _Give It to Me Baby_ began to play, and Tracey began to dance. Rather… _dance_ was the polite term for what she was doing. Michael groaned and took a few steps backwards while Alex and Trevor exchanged another look.

Lazlow, however, appeared to enjoy her "dance". He started to… dance along. "Mm, yeah, shake what your daddies gave ya, honey!" he said, scooting up next to her. "I should shove a twenty in here."

Trevor hit Michael on the chest. "You gonna fucking do something about this?" he demanded, gesturing to the two of them.

"Yeah, you might want to do something before you lose Tracey for good," Alex agreed, flinching at the scene in front of her.

Michael took a step forward. "Alright, that's enough." Lazlow didn't back off. "Ho, ho, I said that's enough!" Michael moved in and pushed Lazlow off of Tracey.

"No!" his daughter argued, her voice a whine.

"Hey, I got security!" Lazlow exclaimed, scooting away from Michael. "Security!"

Immediately, a big guy in a black shirt came out of nowhere and blocked Michael's path to Lazlow. Alex moved out of the way just as Trevor picked up a folded chair and swung it at the security guy's head, knocking him to the ground.

In the commotion, Lazlow made a run for the door. Alex tried to stop him, but he was already out before she could even grab his ponytail. Trevor ran after him before she could.

Michael glanced at Alex. "Get Tracey home!" he ordered quickly before running after Trevor.

Alex glanced down at Tracey, who was throwing a tantrum on the floor, her dreams of fame shattered within the span of sixty seconds. Alex let out a breath before approaching her.

 _What a morning._

* * *

 **What a morning indeed, Alex.**


	8. Phil Collins and the FIB

**Okay! Let's try this chapter on for size!**

 **Thanks to all the friends who've been giving me nice reviews. I appreciate it, really.**

* * *

"Michael!" Alex ran out the front door to meet him as he walked up the driveway. "What happened?" she asked, stopping him from walking past her.

"We didn't kill him, if that's what you're asking," Michael responded.

"Trevor didn't try to kill him?" Michael shook his head, and Alex frowned. "That's strange."

"Al, I have to go," Michael said, walking around her to his car. He stopped in surprise before he reached it, and turned to look at her. "Where did this come from?"

"I talked the guy out of taking it to the impound," Alex explained. "I told him Tracey was having a mental break down and that she needed to go to the hospital."

Michael's face flickered with a semblance of a smile. "Good plan," he praised.

Alex's face grew warm. "It wouldn't have worked if Tracey hadn't been hysterical,' she said quietly.

"It was smart of you," Michael told her. "Thanks."

He started to climb into it, and Alex walked over to his window, which was rolled down. "Where are you going?" she questioned curiously.

"Ah, one of the guys from the Bureau and I are going to have a chat," Michael answered.

"The one that helped you fake your death?" Alex asked.

"Yeah," Michael said. "We uh - we have some stuff to talk about."

Alex bit her lip. This was her chance to see if he was who she thought he was. "C-can I come with you?" she asked gingerly.

Michael's brow furrowed. "I don't know, Al," he said. "We…. we'll be talking about stuff I don't want Trevor to know about."

"He won't! I promise," Alex swore, this being a promise she was going to keep.

Michael studied her for a long moment. "Alright," he sighed at last. "Hop in."

Alex immediately scurried over to the other side of the car and slid into the passenger seat. "Can you pull up a GPS for the Galileo Observatory?" Michael asked her as he pulled out of the driveway.

"Sure." She pulled out her phone and typed in what he'd said. It was pretty far out of the city. She set it up above the radio, and Michael glanced over at it before taking a right onto the street.

"Why'd you want to come with me/" he asked after a few moments of quiet.

 _Uh oh._ "Uh…" Alex frantically searched her brain for a plausible story. "I… I want to know the whole story," she said. "The way Trevor told it made you seem like the bad guy, and I don't think you are." _There ya go, flatter him a lil' bit._

Michael looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "What makes you think that?"

"I guess… I wanna like you, Michael," Alex told him. "I can't like you if I think you're a bad guy, can I?"

She saw the corner of his mouth twitch, as though he was holding back a grin. "No," he agreed. "I guess not." He glanced in her direction. "So, how'd you get to LS?"

"Ah, it's a long story," Alex told him. "You don't want to hear it."

"Try me," Michael said.

Surprised, Alex let out a breath. 'Well, it was Franklin's friend Lamar who convinced me, actually. He mentioned the dealership you and Frankie drove through, and said the pay was nice. Me? I needed the money, so I shipped myself down from Liberty City and… here I am."

"That wasn't very long," Michael mused. Alex gave him a look, and he chuckled. "Sounds like it was fate that brought you here, Al."

"You believe in fate?" she asked. "Mikey, I'm shocked."

Michael shrugged. "Well, I don't know if I believe in fate, per se. More like… ah, I don't know how to explain it."

"I think I know what you mean," Alex said. "There's some sort of thing that makes stuff happen, but it's not purely chance?"

"Exactly," Michael replied. "What about you?"

"Pfft," Alex scoffed, leaning back in her seat. She gazed out the side window, watching Los Santos roll by. "I don't know."

The radio, which she hadn't noticed was on, started to play a song she liked. She reached over and turned it up, bouncing in her seat slightly as she did so. She hummed along to the music that played in the beginning before she started to sing along:

" _You can tell everyone I'm a down disgrace_

 _Drag my name all over the place_

 _I don't care anymore_."

Michael looked at her curiously. "You like Phil?"

"Like him?" Alex snorted. "I love him. He's the best." She nodded along to the music.

" _You can tell everybody 'bout the state I'm in_

 _You won't catch me crying 'cause I just can't win_

 _I don't care anymore_."

Michael shook his head in amusement. "You're something else, Al."

"What, is there a problem with Phil Collins?" Alex demanded, ready to fight him on the matter.

"No!" Michael said quickly. "I like him, too. I'm just surprised you do."

Alex pursed her lips. "You say you like him, but can you sing with him?" she challenged.

"No," he responded. "I can't sing, Al."

"Everyone can sing, Mikey," Alex said with a laugh.

"Yeah, well, some people are better than others, and some people are worse." Michael shook his head. "I'm worse than the worse people."

Alex smiled. "I don't believe that."

"Don't tempt me to prove it too you," Michael warned. "You will cry, and they won't be tears of joy."

"Alright," she chuckled. "I'm not gonna push you. Relax."

Michael changed the subject as a silence followed. "You're good."

"You heard me sing two lines, M."

"Those two lines were good. What else can you do, besides sing and improvise to get out of situations?"

Alex hesitated. "I can play the violin," she said after a moment.

Michael lifted an eyebrow. "Really? That's something. Are you good?"

Alex waved her hand. "I had to be. Playing my violin is how I survived in Liberty City."

Hearing this, Michael frowned. "Your parents didn't take care of you when you were having troubles?"

"Well, sure," Alex said, beginning to get nervous. This was a subject she didn't like to talk about. "But uh… I dropped out of high school, and I lived with my half-brother for a while, but then I found out he was a part of something, and it made me mad. I left. I didn't really want to bother my parents after that, so I… worked my own way."

"Oh," Michael said. "I didn't realize. Sorry, Al."

"It's not a big deal or anything," Alex said dismissively. "I mean, I'm in Los Santos now, and -" She cut off. "Oh."

"What is it?" Michael questioned, turning off into the parking lot of the Observatory.

"It's just - I don't have a place to stay, now that Trevor's down here."

"You can't stay where he's staying?"

Alex though back to the text she'd received from Trevor earlier: _Stayin wit wades cuz. No space 4 u. prob shuld mooch off of mikey, princess_.

She shook her head. "No, it's pretty crowded there." She sighed and climbed out of Michael's car, which he'd parked by this point. "I'll figure something out."

Michael didn't say anything. She hadn't expected him too, either. Instead, he silently led the way up to a viewing station within the Observatory. Alex swallowed as they neared the guy already standing there, and blanched when Michael greeted him with a "Davey!"

Said man didn't turn at Michael's voice, but Alex knew it was him just by studying the way he was standing. Michael patted him on the back in a friendly manner as he said, "How've you been doing?"

"As well as can be expected -" Yep, it was him. "- considering the circumstances." He turned around to face them, eyes landing first on Michael before moving past him to Alex. She saw something flash in his eyes, but it disappeared quickly. "Michael…"

"David Norton, this is Alex. She's a friend, and she knows about Trevor. In fact, she was the one who came and told me Trevor wasn't in prison." As he said it, he gave Dave a pointed look.

Hearing this pulled Dave's eyes off of Alex and back to him. Michael nodded slowly. "You called it, motherfucker."

"Fuck," Dave cursed.

"We haven't talked about anything, not really anyway," Michael said.

"Yeah, well, it isn't gonna be long before he's wondering why you're not feeding worms south of the Canadian border." Dave turned away from them and leaned over the wall. "We got problems."

Michael scoffed and joined him at the wall. "Yeah, no shit."

There was a small pause. "We're in it -" Dave began.

"- together," Michael finished with a small nod. Alex rolled her eyes.

"Wait," Dave said slowly. "So… if your problems are my problems, does that mean my problems are your problems?"

Michael laughed. "Uh-uh. Nope."

"But what if I lose my job?" Dave asked. "Someone comes into my office, starts reading my files. They'll see the things I did. I know a lot of stuff, I can cop a plea, get five years, but you?"

Michael glared at him. "Fuck you, you ungrateful prick. I made your career."

"Well," Dave sighed, "then we better go about saving it together, because you and I both know we can't let it go to shit now."

Michael stared at him for a moment before he sighed. "What do you need?"

Dave immediately pulled a picture out of his coat. "This guy. Ferdinand Kerimov. The Agency claims he's dead. We at the Bureau think they're full of crap." Michael snatched the picture from his hand and started to walk further down the balcony with Davey. Alex followed more slowly. "We think he's being debriefed someplace," Dave went on.

"So?" Michael queried.

"Apparently he has information which will pull me and my superiors out of circulation. Those Agency fuckers have got the coroner's office locked down." They stopped walking, and Dave turned to face Michael. "We need you to verify the body."

"So, how the hell am I gonna get in there?" Michael asked him.

Alex watched as Dave reached behind him and pulled out a pistol with a shrug, saying, "Well, you've played dead before, haven't you?"

Before she could do anything, he'd hit Michael in the back of the head with the butt of the gun, knocking him to the ground. "Mikey!" she gasped, moving to crouch beside him.

She tried to keep him awake, but he was already pretty out of it. "Call me when you wake up," Dave told him. "I'll tell you what to do." Michael's eyes closed completely.

Alex turned a glare up to him. "What the hell?" she demanded, rising to her full height.

"It was the only way it would work," Dave said simply. "If you want to be useful, call 911 and tell them your friend just had a heart attack. Your acting skills are better than mine." He started to turn away, but Alex grabbed his arm before he could.

"David, tell me what's going on right now!" she growled. "What did you do?"

Dave sighed. "Alex, if you needed to know, I would tell you, but it has nothing to do with you." He glanced down at Michael. "How the hell did you meet him?"

"The same way you did, I'm sure," Alex grunted. "Trying to further a career, make some money." She pulled out her phone and dialed 911, making her voice breathy and freaked out sounding as she gasped, "Help! Please! My - my friend, he collapsed. I think he's dying!"

"Ma'am, please calm down," the person on the other end said. "Where are you located?"

"At the Galileo Observatory! Please, hurry! He's dying!" she cried, and then hung up the phone, giving Dave a small glare as she did so. "Tell me. Now."

Dave shook his head. "You already know, Alex."

She studied him for a long moment, trying to decide whether she should hit him now, or kill him later. "You did this to him. To Trevor." She reached forward and slapped him on the face. "You fucking asshole! Do you know how much shit Michael and Trevor have gone through because of the stunt you pulled Michael into?"

"The stunt _I_ pulled him into? Alex, it was Michael's choice to do this to himself," David told him. "He did it for his family."

"And you did it for what? To get higher up in your career?" Alex shook her head. "You're no better than the Feds you work with, you lousy turd!" There was the sound of an ambulance siren in the distance, and she pointed to Michael. "Don't rope him or Trevor further into your world of bullshit, Dave. Do you understand me?"

Dave merely held up his hands and walked away from her. Alex crouched down beside Michael again and leaned her ear against his chest. His heart was beating, thankfully. "Hang in there, Michael," she said to him as paramedics ran up the stairs to where they were on the balcony.

She looked up and pointed to Michael, her hand shaking. "He's… he's not moving! He's not –"

"Ma'am, please." A paramedic pulled her off of Michael and away from them as they loaded him onto a gurney. Alex watched as they carted him away before she elbowed the paramedic that had a hold on her in the stomach and sprinted away from him.

She glanced over her shoulder once she was out of the observatory and shook her head, pulling out her phone. She dialed Franklin's number and put her phone to her ear. "Franklin, man, listen. We got some heavy shit we're about to be dealing with," she told him when he answered.

"What?" he asked her, confused. "Alex, what the hell are you sayin' right now?"

"Where are you?" she questioned. "This is something I should explain in person."

"I'm with Lamar right now, but I can come meet ya if you want." She heard Lamar say something in the background, and Franklin said, "Lamar can't come, right?"

"No, this is between me and you," Alex told him.

"A'ight, A. I'll meet ya at Vespucci Beach," Franklin said.

"I'll see you there," Alex agreed. She hung up the phone and slid it into her pocket just as she reached Michael's car. She pulled the keys, which she'd taken from Michael's pocket, out of her own and climbed into the driver's seat. She would return it when she had her Mesa back, but for now, she needed to meet up with Franklin.

($)

"Wait, hold on," Franklin said, stopping. Alex stopped as well. They were walking along the beach as the sun set, and she'd just told Franklin what she thought Michael would have wanted him to know. Franklin looked really confused. "Michael is working with the fuckin' Feds?"

"I - I don't want to think that, Franklin, but… they have something on him that kind of makes helping them an obligation," Alex replied. Franklin let out a breath, and she touched his arm. "Franklin, listen." He looked at her, and she bit her lip. "Michael might need our help soon. I don't know if you're gonna want to get sucked into this, but… the FIB aren't good, Frankie. We can't let Michael go into this alone."

"Red, from what you been sayin', it seems like Michael knows what the FIB is and what they do," Franklin said. He shook his head. "Michael seems like an alright guy, A, but… I don't know if he's worth me sticking my neck out for him."

Alex let out a breath and nodded. "I know," she said quietly. "I just – I don't want him to have to deal with this on his own." Franklin merely shook his head again, and she grabbed the arm of his shirt. "Look, I think something happened with Michael a long time ago. He… he faked his death with the help of the FIB, only it didn't go like it was supposed to. If it was the FIB's fault, it's not fair that they're making him help them."

Franklin was about to respond when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned before lifting it to his ear. "Ay, Mike." He paused for a long moment, giving Alex a look as he listened to whatever Michael said. "Man, that don't sound too good, homie." He let out a breath. "Look, I'm with Alex right now, we on our way."

He hung up the phone and slid it into his pocket with a shake of his head. "Michael wants to meet up at the oil derricks in El Burro Heights."

"He's alright?" Alex asked him, following him up the beach to where they had parked. Franklin shook his head as they walked.

"He didn't sound very good, Red." They made it too parking lot, and Franklin gestured to his motorcycle. "Come on; it'll be faster if we ride this together."

"What about Michael's car?"

"We can get it back," Franklin said, climbing on. He handed her his helmet and started the engine. "C'mon."

Alex put on the helmet and sat down on the back of his motorcycle. Franklin kicked up the stand and rode out of the parking lot. Alex squeaked as he turned the corner, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"What are you doin'? Ain't you ever rode on a bike before?" he asked her.

"No," she managed. "Why?"

"I can tell," Franklin responded.

The rest of the trip out of town was spent in silence, and they reached the oil derricks just as night fell. Michael was already there, sitting on the hood of some car he'd probably stolen to get there. He hopped off as Franklin pulled up, and Alex removed her helmet, sliding off of the bike and hurrying over to him.

"Are you alright?" she asked nervously. "What happened?"

"I'm okay," he told her. "I just… it's alright."

"Man, what the fuck is goin' on?" Franklin questioned, coming over to where they were standing.

"Listen, I need you to get out of town," Michael told him. He glanced sideways at Alex. "You might want to, too." Alex and Franklin exchanged a glance.

"Man, I ain't exactly got nowhere to go," Franklin said after a moment.

"And… I sort of gave up everything in order to come to Los Santos…" Alex added, trailing off at the end of her sentence.

"Well, then take a trip. A long trip," Michael said quickly.

"What the fuck is going on?" Franklin repeated.

"Things, alright?" Michael glanced at Alex, and so did Franklin. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him that the FIB's freakin' pulling you into dangerous territory!" Alex exclaimed.

"Shh!" Michael hissed, putting a hand over her mouth. He looked at Franklin. "Look, you remember I told you I know people?" Franklin started to nod, and then shrugged. "Ah, man… I wasn't sure if that was the right story. I got so many stories, I don't even remember who I told 'em too. I'm full of shit."

"Yeah, but your full of shit got me a lot of paper," Franklin told him. "One score with you, and I got more money than I ever had."

"Ah, yeah, I mean, I'm a great thief," Michael agreed, lowering his hand. "But it's the other shit I ain't got figured out."

"So, what's the deal, man?" Franklin asked. "What's the deal with the Bureau, man?"

"I already told you, Franklin," Alex put in in order to save time. "They've got something on him, and they're going to make him help them."

"Yeah, but what do they got on you?" Franklin demanded, turning back to Michael, who shook his head.

"This clown… I mean, he's an okay guy…" He took a couple of steps away from them. "Alex met him earlier today. We did a deal, a long time ago. Didn't go quite the way it was supposed to go. Wrong guy got killed. So, I had to go into a kind of a… an informal witness protection program."

"Shit, did you know that?" Franklin asked Alex.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "This is what I told you at the beach!"

Franklin wasn't listening to her anymore. He was staring at the ground, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Why are they makin' you do shit if they the ones that fucked up?" he questioned after a moment, directing it at Michael.

"He helped me, and I didn't reveal secrets of his. Everything was cool. The problem started when recently I became unretired. I mean, he shows up, starts calling in favors, telling me to do shit… it's like Alex told you, man. I'm working for the fucking Feds," Michael said with a shake of his head.

"Ah, fuck, man!" Franklin exclaimed, turning away from him.

"Fuck is right," Michael agreed. "And that ain't even the worst part!" He pointed at Alex. "Did she tell you about Trevor?"

Franklin lifted his shoulders. "I don't think so, maybe you did, I don't fucking know!"

"If it's a maybe, then I wasn't being completely honest. He's… I don't – Hell walking on Earth. That's what he is."

"Well, let's bury this motherfucker!" Franklin said.

"I can't let you do that," Alex injected with a sharp shake of her head. They both looked at her in surprise. "No. Trevor may be Hell walking on Earth, but he's –" She cut off, unsure where she was going with this. "Just… no."

"Besides whatever she's trying to say, Trevor and I got history," Michael put in. "Complicated fucking history." Franklin gazed at him, and Michael stepped closer. "Look, I done a lot of things that I ain't proud of. Okay? I never claimed to be an angel, but Franklin, you meet Trevor, and you will swear that I _am_ an angel."

"So, what's the move then, man?" Franklin asked.

"I don't know!" Michael shook his head. "Fuck! I guess I'm gonna… try and play both sides, you know? Until I can find a way out of this shit."

Franklin looked at Alex, and she returned it, pleading with her eyes. Franklin sighed and turned back to Michael. "Alright, look man, you helped me. The way I see it, man, the least I can do is help you."

"It's a death sentence, Franklin," Michael told him seriously.

"Man, I ain't tryin' to hear all that shit, man!" Franklin muttered, throwing up his hands. "If the Bureau ain't gonna take you to court, them motherfuckers just hustlers anyway. And I ain't finna let no motherfucking cat think he so motherfucking crazy run me up a tree. Fuck that."

Michael's shoulders lowered, and he reached over to grab Franklin's arm to regain his attention. "Hey," he said quietly, "you're a good kid, Franklin. This means a lot to me. Like I told ya, I'm a terrific thief. I'll find something for ya, big." He gestured towards the motorcycle. "Come on, you better take off."

Franklin nodded and started to do that. "Alright man, I'm with you. I'm with you." He climbed onto his bike and shook his head at Alex before starting it up and riding away. Alex let out a breath and turned to look at Michael, who was watching Franklin ride away.

When he was gone, he looked at her. "Al –"

She merely nodded. "I'm with you too, Mikey. You don't need to worry about that."

"Trevor –"

"- is my friend," Alex told him before he could finished, "and I don't want anything to happen to him. If-If you ask me to do something to keep this away from him, I –"

"I know," Michael said gently. "I get it. I won't ask you to keep this from him if he asks, but I need you to promise me you won't say anything unless he does." Alex closed her eyes, and she heard Michael step closer to her. "Please, Alex."

Alex lifted her head upwards and opened her eyes. She found herself looking at the stars, and she sighed. "Okay, Michael," she said softly. "I promise."

"Thank you," Michael said. "Really. And hey, if you need someplace to stay, I have a couch."

Alex smiled and met his eyes. "Thanks, M."

His phone binged, and he pulled it out, gazing down at it with a frown. "You bet your ass I'm annoyed, Davey," he muttered under his breath before putting it back in his pocket. He looked up at her again. "Earlier, it seemed like Dave recognized you, and you recognized him. Is that -?"

Alex lifted her shoulders, and Michael gazed at her for a long moment before he nodded to the car he'd taken. "Let's get home, huh?"

"Yeah," Alex agreed, following him to the car. As they pulled out of the derricks and headed back into Los Santos, Alex gazed out the window at the stars, wondering why in the hell she'd gotten caught up in all this.

 _You let Lamar convince you to come to LS,_ she thought bitterly to herself. _You should have just stayed in LC._

"Al?" Michael's voice broke through the barrier her thoughts had created. She glanced in his direction. "Where's my car?"

"Vespucci Beach," Alex said, returning her gaze back out the window. "I took it there."

Michael let out a breath. "Alright," he sighed. "I'll just go get it tomorrow."

"I'll get it for you, if you want me too."

"Nah, I'll do it," Michael said.

Alex looked at him again. "Maybe I'll go with you," she said. "Trevor's staying down near there; I could pop in to see what he's doing."

Michael glanced in her direction, understanding on his face. "Good idea."

 _Yeah,_ Alex thought to herself as she gazed out the windshield. _Sure it is._

* * *

 **Alright, I'm feeling this chapter. I'm feeling it.**

 **I uh... I guess it's pretty okay. I dunno. Tell me what you think in the reviews. But don't kill me, please. I can't get killed again.**


	9. Trevor No

**Woe is the life of the lonely writer.**

 **On a happy note, though, I have reached 100+ followers on Tumblr. That's a cool thing.**

* * *

The next day, just like she'd said, Alex jogged up the stairs to the apartment on the second floor of the blue building near the beach and knocked. When no one answered, she tried the doorknob. It was open. Cautiously, she opened it, and immediately regretted it. The scent of human feces reached her nose, and gagging, she stepped into the apartment.

"What the hell is that smell?" she asked no one in particular, not thinking she'd get an answer.

"I-I tried to stop it," Wade's voice said. Alex looked up and saw his head over the top of a couch. She approached him, passing a tiny kitchen, and staggered slightly as the smell worsened. "I tried to stop it, but it just kept comin'…"

"Wade, what the hell happened to you?" Alex demanded, choking back a wave of vomit she felt rising.

"I… I was on the waste crew," Wade told her. He was covered in what she assumed was sewage, but what smelled mostly like shit.

"Why?" Alex asked him, covering her nose with her hand.

"Trevor wants to steal somethin' off of a boat at the docks," Wade explained. "I thought I'd be helpin' him, but I di'nt."

"Oh, Wade…" Alex wanted to give him some comfort, but she didn't want to touch him. "I'm sure it'll come out. Eventually."

She heard the door open, and then Trevor was choking. She turned and saw him standing near the door, wearing some type of suit and a vest. "Oh," he exclaimed. "What in the name of all things holy…?"

"I-I-I tried to stop it," Wade repeated again as Trevor approached them, "but it just kept… coming… and coming…"

Trevor moved Alex away from him for her own safety and stepped towards Wade himself, coughing. "There, there, Wade," he said, leaning in to give him a hug. "You're just not cut out for honest work, alright?"

He gagged and backed away from Wade, joining Alex in the dining area. "Did you get what you needed?" Wade asked, standing.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, more or less, yeah," Trevor told him. Alex noticed that he was holding a briefcase of sorts. He set it down on the table. "Alex, I'm glad you're here."

"What are you doing, T?" she asked him.

"Just… poking fun, is all," he told her. He glanced around. "I just gotta figure out a place to plan this now." He turned and faced a giant portrait of a woman in glasses that was hanging on the wall. "Alright, this'll do." He threw the portrait down, and the glass shattered.

Wade stepped up to drag it out of the way. "That woman ain't even fine," he said regretfully. "Ain't no one understands why Floyd lets her use him so."

"Oh, it's low self-esteem, Wade," Trevor told him. "We gotta build him back up." Alex watched as he quickly drew up what looked like a football play of sorts, with lots of arrows and some pictures. He gestured to it. "There."

"What the hell is that?" she queried.

"Fun, I told you," Trevor responded. "Alright, so, based on my observations, I'd say these Merryweather security cocksnots are sitting on something real valuable."

"Merryweather?" Alex asked. "No, no. Trevor…" She knew about Merryweather. The private militia was very expensive, and very dangerous.

"I think they got two of these things, but we only need one," Trevor said, pointing to a pamphlet he'd taped onto the wall. Alex leaned forward to read it; it talked about something Merryweather was shipping away.

"What is it?" she questioned.

"Some type of expensive thing, alright? Stop asking so many questions," Trevor ordered. "This first one is on that freighter, in a container below deck. They got guards all over that ship, so it's likely they're keeping it on ice. The air land and sea routes into the port'll be locked down as soon as we make a noise. At these x's here." He pointed to the red x's he'd drawn around the ship that was circled. "Which means we have to blow up the ship, and grab the thing underwater."

He looked at Alex as he said the next part; "Need a guy to plant the bombs, a guy to look out for him with a rifle, and a guy to grab the thing, whatever it is, underwater."

"Are you suggesting me, you and Michael do that?" Alex shook her head. "Trevor, there is no way Michael will agree to this thing."

He ignored her and looked at Wade. "We'll have to steal a submarine, but you can find us one of them, can't ya?"

Wade had been picking bits of something out of his hair. He looked up. "Huh?"

"Please tell me there's another way to do this that doesn't involve Michael climbing onto a Merryweather protected ship and setting firebombs," Alex sighed.

Trevor sighed, mockingly, and pointed to another thing he'd taped onto the wall, something that said "certified" on it in big red letters. "The other one is off the coast being tested. They're running the operation from the dock where I last saw Wade's cousin. We'll need a submarine for that too, and probably a chopper, big one. We got out there, look around underwater, locate it, bring it back here, and find out what it is."

"Here?" Wade asked. "To the condo?"

Trevor ignored him and gestured to the plans with both arms. "Alright, so, what do you we think? Container ship, or whatever's offshore?"

"Uh –"

"Yeah, yeah, I know which one you prefer, princess," Trevor said, waving a hand at her. "That's the one I was gonna go with, anyway. Offshore. Deep sea adventure. Got to be. Perfect." He stepped back to admire the plans. "Wade and Floyd can help, and we'll bring along Michael and you, too."

"What about Franklin?" Alex asked.

"Who?"

"Michael didn't tell you about him?" Trevor shook his head, and Alex clamped up. "Oh, uh… well."

"Who's this Franklin?" Trevor questioned.

"Franklin was another guy we did the jewelry store job with," Alex explained quietly. "I think Michael's taken him on as a protégé, like you did for me."

"Ah, interesting." Trevor nodded in satisfaction. "Alright, we'll bring Michael and this unpaid intern of his." He turned to face Wade. "Okay! Alright!"

Alex heard the front door shut, and then someone new's voice exclaim, "What is that smell?"

Trevor quickly stepped forward, hiding Alex behind him. "Oh, we are going straight to the local Union Rep," he told the new guy, who shared a small resemblance to Wade. _Must be Floyd_ , Alex decided. "Wade here has been injured in the performance of his duties." He coughed slightly as the smell hit him again. "Human waste has seeped into his very pores, and I am sorry to say this but, I don't think he will ever smell normal again."

"You can't go to the Union," Floyd said quickly.

Trevor glared at him. "You are Union, and you vouched for us, alright?" He stalked over to him and grabbed his shoulder. "Look at him, man. Smell him!" Trevor pushed Floyd closer to Wade. "Smell him!"

Floyd had to do as he asked, and he quickly jumped backwards to follow Trevor. "Trevor, Trevor, I – You're planning a robbery on my place of work! You violated Mr. Raspberry Jam and God alone knows what else." He turned to walk back into the living room, but stopped when he realized Wade was standing behind him. That's when he noticed the picture. "You damaged Debra."

Wade stopped him before he could get to the frame, and Floyd turned back to Trevor. "Look, my lady and my Union… that's all I got. So why don't we just… why don't we just let this all slide? Huh?"

Trevor studied him for a moment before he stepped forward and pointed at him. "If you're comfortable with what's happened to your cousin, then so be it, alright? But I would give him a bath and rinse him off. C'mon, princess."

Alex skirted around Wade and followed Trevor out the door as Wade called, "No! No baths!"

Trevor stalked down the stairs and stopped when he heard a helicopter overhead. "What the hell is that?" he shouted as a black helicopter lowered itself to the street in front of them. A man in a black suit climbed out, face serious and grim.

"Mr. Philips? We need you to come with us," he said to Trevor, gesturing towards the helicopter.

"What the fuck for?" Trevor demanded of him, voice still loud even though the helicopter had been turned off.

"We require your assistance," the man in the suit explained. "Your friend, Michael, we are taking you to see him."

"Oh, I should have guessed this had something to do with him," Trevor growled. He looked at Alex. "Should I go?"

"I think so," Alex told him, a sense of dread filling her. "It might be important."

"Are you Alex?" the man in the suit asked.

"Yes," she said slowly, the dread getting worse. Had Dave sold her out, too? And for what, blaming him for fucking up Trevor's life? It was partly his fault, if not entirely. She still didn't know the whole story.

"You will need to come with us as well," the man told her.

She glanced up at Trevor. "Guess we should go," she said, not seeing any other option.

Trevor huffed, but walked over to the helicopter and climbed in all the same. "Fucking shady punk," he muttered under his breath. Alex hopped up next to him, and Trevor crossed his arms angrily. "I don't like this."

"Calm down," she said, doing her best to stay calm herself, "and strap yourself in."

Trevor did as she ordered, and she did the same just as the helicopter rose up into the air. They flew over Los Santos in the direction of El Rancho. Trevor stared ahead with a frown on his face the whole time. Alex didn't want to anger him, so she kept her mouth closed and didn't disturb him.

They reached some type of work yard in a few minutes of flying, and the helicopter landed, kicking up dust. Trevor immediately climbed out of the helicopter and pulled the man in the suit out of the front by his jacket. "Listen to me, you insistent asswipe," he snarled. "You are going to tell me what we're doing here right now."

Alex climbed out of the helicopter and moved to grab Trevor just as Franklin rode up on his motorcycle. He gave Alex a look of confusion as she pulled Trevor away from the guy with a grunt.

She heard tires on dirt, and turned to see Michael pulling into the yard in a car that wasn't his, with Dave sitting beside him. She growled to herself as Trevor noticed this as well, letting out a growl of his own. Michael climbed out of the car, but Dave didn't, and he drove away as Michael walked over to them.

"Who's that cagey motherfucker?" Trevor demanded. Michael opened his mouth to reply, but Trevor cut him off, pointing to the guy in the suit. "No, it's another cagey motherfucker, alright? Not you." He shoved man, and Michael grabbed his arm.

"Hey, T, enough with faux political bullshit," he said, pulling him away. The man in the suit walked off with an annoyed shake of his head, and Michael turned to Franklin. "Franklin, come on, you better take off, really," he said quietly.

"Shit, I'm good. I ain't bailing," Franklin responded.

Trevor frowned and looked from one to the other and lifted his hands. "Whoa, am I sensing some sort of… err… 'son I never had' bullshit here, Mikey, huh?" he asked. He looked at Alex and pointed to Franklin. "Is this the intern?"

"Intern?" Franklin questioned, looking at Alex too. "What the fuck?"

Trevor tapped Franklin on the shoulder to get his attention back. "Listen, if you wanna replace some father figure, you can do a lot better than this fat snake, alright?" He pointed to Michael with his thumb. "This fucker would eat his own kids."

"Like I said, Franklin," Michael put in, "deranged."

"Yeah, and best friend," Trevor added turning to him.

Michael laughed. "Exactly." He looked at Franklin and gestured to Trevor with his hand. "That's Trevor, my best friend, and that's Franklin, the son I always wanted."

The two of them shook hands, and Michael grabbed Alex's arm and pulled her over to them. "Alright guys, listen, this is the shot," he started, letting her go. "I'm gonna do all the heavy lifting on this job, okay? Trevor, all I need you to do is fly me to the target. Franklin, you're gonna cover me from across the street."

"What am I doing?" Alex asked him.

"Well, you ride with me in the helicopter, and shoot anybody who tries to kill me," Michael told her simply. He looked at the others. "We're gonna make these assholes happy, and we're gonna walk away from this thing clean. Got it?"

"I got you," Franklin agreed first with a nod.

"Alright, and we do this, and they help us spring Brad, right?" Trevor asked Michael.

Alex could sense Michael's discomfort. "Yeah, we'll talk about Brad later, alright? I got to change." He looked at Franklin. "You better grab a head start."

Franklin nodded and started to walk away towards his motorcycle, giving Alex a fist bump as he passed. "Nice to meet you, homie," Trevor said to him.

Franklin waved his hand. "Yeah, whatever." He climbed onto his bike and rode off as Michael entered the building in the yard.

Trevor looked at Alex. "Seems like a nice kid."

"Yeah, he's cool," she agreed absentmindedly. She was still trying to figure out how the hell to get the four of them out of this FIB shit, but she didn't have any idea. It seemed all they could do was do as the suits asked, and keep their heads down otherwise.

Unfortunately, she didn't know how they were going to do that last part with Trevor's Merryweather heist all planned out and him rearing to get it started. She'd have to talk to Michael about it, or maybe try to convince Trevor to leave it, whatever _it_ was, alone.

A few minutes later, Michael reappeared from the building, wearing a black diving suit of sorts. He didn't look bad in it, but Trevor laughed all the same and held out his arms. "The government gimp at last," he said.

"Yeah, bite me," Michael muttered in response.

"Let's go," Trevor said, climbing into the pilot's seat of the helicopter. Alex and Michael hopped into the back seat, buckling themselves in. As Trevor rose up off of the ground, Michael handed her a rifle and a black earpiece. She put it on with a confused frown.

"Crew chat," Michael explained to her, his voice coming from the earpiece. "We need to go to the Agency headquarters, downtown," he said to Trevor. Trevor guided the helicopter in that direction.

Alex smiled to herself. She was actually given an earpiece this time. The trust must be growing.

As he flew he said into his own headset, "You're new friends are a riot. No wonder you said sayonara to the old crew."

"Walking away ain't easy, Trev," Michael responded, "but sometimes I guess you gotta make compromises."

"What happened to dying with a gun in your hand?" Trevor asked him.

"Life happened," Michael said. "Annoying wife. Two kids. Remember them? You get tied down, and you can't move anymore."

"What about your ties to me? To Brad?" Trevor queried.

"Those ties are why you got roped in on this FIB instigated suicide pact," Michael told him. By this point, they'd reached the IAA and the FIB buildings. "The access point is on the west side of the tower," Michael said. "Get us in position so I can rappel down."

Trevor flew the helicopter around the IAA building and lowered the altitude slightly. Michael glanced at Alex. "You got this, right?" he asked her.

She merely grinned and held up the rifle he'd give her. He nodded and clipped on a rope to the belt on his suit. "You fuck around while I'm out there, and I'll climb back up this rope, and strangle you with it," he said to Trevor in warning before hopping out of the helicopter and rappelling down the side of the building.

Alex watched him through the scope of the rifle, lying down on the floor of the helicopter. She saw him stop at a window as he said, "Okay, here we go." He then started to swing back and forth against the window to smash the glass, which he succeeded in doing with a few kicks.

Immediately, he said, "I could use a little back up here."

"Thirty sixth floor, I got you," Franklin's voice said through the earpiece.

Alex wanted to shoot, too, but she didn't have an aim on any of the guys in the building. She left it up to Franklin to kill them, which he did in a few shots from the building across the street.

"Alright T, we have a window!" Michael said. "Pull us out." Trevor raised the altitude of the helicopter a little, pulling Michael and the guy he was grabbing out of the building. He didn't however, pull up the rope that Michael was attached too. "Hey, why are we just hanging here?" Michael demanded.

"There's guys shooting at you, Mikey. That's unfinished business," Trevor explained. "Clean it up, we'll move on, you damn softie."

"Alex, pull us up!" Michael told her.

"Don't you dare touch that rope, princess," Trevor warned.

Alex didn't know what to do. She saw Michael swing a bit, and she gulped. "Sorry, T," she said, leaning forward between the front seats of the helicopter and hitting the winch. Michael and his new friend were lifted back up into the helicopter, and she returned to her previous position in the back of the chopper, grabbing the belt on Michael's suit to pull him backwards away from the edge.

"Thanks, Al," Michael said, giving her a pat on the shoulder.

"Dammit, Alex," Trevor growled. "Why'd you do that?"

"Because you weren't going to do anything," Alex exclaimed. She heard something outside of the helicopter, and she leaned out again, eyes widening. "Uh-oh."

"You got a bogey coming at ya, Franklin," Trevor said.

"Shit, dog, I see him," Franklin replied.

Alex slid to the other side of the chopper and took aim, pointing towards the pilot of the other helicopter's head. She let out a breath and prepared to pull the trigger.

"Hey," Michael warned from behind her, "don't shoot unless you know."

"I do," she answered before squeezing. The gun fired and she watched through the scope as the pilot hunched over and the chopper went twirling down towards the street.

 _Thank you, Trevor._

"Damn, Red," Franklin whistled. "Nice."

"Thank you, Mr. Clinton," Alex said with a small grin. She looked over her shoulder at Michael, who was staring at her in shock. "You wanna take the other two?"

He blinked and shook his head. "Yeah, give it here." She passed him the rifle, and he took her position on the edge of the chopper.

"Nice one, princess," Trevor said proudly, all events of before forgotten. "Seems I've taught you well."

"Thank you for the lessons, by the way," she said in response.

"Don't even mention it, kiddo."

Michael fired the rifle. "There's one of two," he called. A pause, another shot. "And there's the other one."

"Good teamwork everybody!" Trevor commented cheerfully as Michael readjusted himself in his seat.

The guy he'd saved was panicking. "Shit! Shit! I'm going to fall!"

"You're strapped in, you'll be fine," Michael assured him.

"I'm slipping, I swear to God… eugh…"

"You're good. Sit back and enjoy the ride," Michael advised, pushing him back against the seat. "Hey T, set us down at that lot."

"That's affirmative, squadron leader!" Trevor announced, turning the helicopter in the direction of El Rancho again.

"Hey, Frank. They ain't got their eyes in the sky. You can clear out of there," Michael said into his earpiece.

"Who are you people?" the guy asked him.

"That doesn't matter," Michael replied.

"They said they were government… I do home theatre… I'm not…"

"I don't care who you are," Michael told him.

"Then why are you doing this to me?"

"Hey, hold tight," Michael said. "I've got some friends with the Bureau. They'll explain everything."

"You sure about that, Mike?" Alex queried, glancing over at him.

Michael shrugged, but didn't say yes or no. They'd reached the yard, and Michael said, "Put her down in the lot, Trevor."

Th helicopter hit the ground, and a few Bureau guys came forward to take the guy. "Go easy on him," Michael said, handing him over.

One of the guys grabbed his shoulder while he looked at Michael. "Thank you," he said as they ushered him towards a van. Covering his head with a bag, they pushed him into it. "No-no-no!"

"Hey, I said easy!" Michael called.

One of the guys looked over while the other shut the van's back doors. He lifted his arms and walked away. The van pulled out as Trevor shut the door on the helicopter.

Michael shook his head. "I'm gonna go get out of this shit," he muttered, walking away towards the building to do just that.

Alex looked at Trevor, who was eyeing the helicopter. "Don't think about it, T."

"What?" he asked. "Don't think about taking this beauty as payment for our hard work?" Alex shook her head as Michael reemerged from the building, wearing his normal clothing. Trevor laughed at him as he came out. "In bed with the Bureau, and a new running buddy."

"Yeah, he's more of a protégé," Michael explained. Alex smiled slightly hearing him use the term she'd used earlier.

"Yeah? What, you gonna teach him to be old before his time?" Trevor queried.

"Yeah, or too never grow up," Michael said.

"He seems like a good kid," Trevor mused. He turned and held out his arms. "Michael, huh? Look at this, huh? New city, new set of problems, but the idiots, ah, they stay the same." He walked around and climbed up into the helicopter. Alex was about to follow, but Michael shook his head and gestured for her to stay behind.

She retreated away from the vehicle as he looked at Trevor. "Yep, I guess." Trevor pulled the door closed, and he waved at him. "Alright, Trevor, I'll see you later."

"Ah, you better believe it, buddy!" Trevor called as he started up the chopper. It rose into the air and flew away, almost knocking over an electricity pole as it did so. Alex grinned to herself and laughed.

"He's something else, isn't he, Mikey?" she asked, glancing at him.

Michael was watching her. "You know who something else is? You are."

"Me?"

"Yes, you," Michael replied. "You come out of left field, no experience according to how you do in the jewelry store, and then you do basically a 180 and turn into something better than Trevor. What the hell happened?"

Alex merely shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I saw what Trevor did and I realized that I needed to be better," she said softly.

Michael gazed at her steadily for a moment. "You really are something else, aren't you, Alex?" he asked at last.

Alex smiled. "Probably, but I hope it's something different from whatever Trevor is."

Michael allowed a grin of his own and nodded towards a truck. "C'mon, Al," he said, starting towards it. "Let's go home."

As he climbed into it, Alex looked up at the sky. "Home." She'd never really felt like she'd had one of those before, since her family was distant because her father was her real father, but her mother wasn't. In fact, she was surprised that her mother had stayed with her father when she'd learned he'd gotten a stripper pregnant with Alex and shown up at the door with her wrapped in a blanket.

She blinked to pull herself out of those thoughts and hurried over to the truck. If anything, she appreciated Michael for letting her stay at his house, even if it wasn't hers just yet.

Michael glanced at her as she hopped into the truck. "You good?" he queried.

"Yeah," she answered with a small grin. "Really good."

* * *

 **The third _Chronicles of Narnia_ movie sucks so far. We'll see if it get better as time goes on.**

 **I have little hope.**


	10. Interrogation

**The third _Chronicles of Narnia_ movie did not get better. **

**Edmund's looks, did, though. Unfortunately, he'll never be as cute as Peter.**

 **This chapter has a bit of original writing before a long-ass portion of canon stuff, so if you don't like canon stuff, I'm warning you now that almost 3/4ths of it is in fact canon conversation with a little bit of Alex thrown in when I could get her in. I just don't like to disrupt the flow of the game dialogue, y'know?**

 **On a better note, this chapter _is_ the longest one in the Fic so far, so I guess that's something to celebrate.**

 **OH FUCK. I almost forgot.**

 **A shout-out to GlossyFresh for the nice review they left. You the real MVP.**

* * *

"So, apparently, people get closer if they share secrets with one another," Alex announced, reading an article off of her phone.

Michael looked up from where he was sitting on the other end of the couch. "And… this is important?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Alex told him. "We're going to share our secrets, and get close. Sound like a plan?"

"What if I don't want to share my secrets with you?" Michael queried.

"Too damn bad," Alex said. She folded her legs up beneath her and turned to face him. "If you don't want to start with secrets, we can share things we have in common, first. Y'know, get used to it."

Michael sighed and turned off the TV, which was turned to _Fame or Shame_. "Alright, we'll do that first, then. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I could say five things I like, and you can tell me if you like 'em too. For each one that we don't share, you have to come up with one to replace it, and when we have five things, we win."

"Win what?" Michael questioned. Alex could see he was having a hard time holding back a grin.

"Friendship, Mikey. We win friendship." Alex rubbed her hands together. "Are you ready?"

"Sure," Michael responded, turning to face her fully.

"Okay." Alex gnawed on her lip, trying to think. "Well, I'm not an only child, but I think you knew that already. I love music, acting, I hate driving because I'm not very good at it, and…" She trailed off, trying to think of one more thing. "I… ah! This is my natural hair color."

"You think I dye mine?" Michael asked her.

"No," Alex said. "Listen, if all of these things are the same, I think I might as well get up and walk out of the house right now."

Michael chuckled and shook his head. "Well, a few of them are the same. I like music too –"

"Uh-uh." Alex shook her head, and Michael held out his hands. "I _love_ music, Mikey. You don't _love_ music, it doesn't count."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, I _love_ music, and movies, too."

"But do you like to act?"

"I don't know," Michael responded. "I'm good at it, right?" Alex lifted her eyebrow, and he frowned. "Shut up, I'm good. Besides, you don't know."

"Alright, M," Alex said with a laugh. "You're good."

"I guess I do like it, since it saves my neck more often than not," Michael mused, looking down at the couch.

"When an FIB agent isn't, right?" Michael lifted his eyes, and she saw a fire burning there. Dimly, but it was there. She quickly looked away. "Sorry. That wasn't nice of me."

"No, it wasn't." He shook his head. "I don't mind driving, and I'm an only child." He glared at her. "And I do not dye my hair."

"The acting thing doesn't count."

"Fine," Michael mumbled. "I don't dye my hair."

She held up her hands. "Just For Men, Mikey. That's all I'm saying." She pulled all of her hair over one shoulder and started to braid it. "You have to come up with three things."

"Sure," Michael said. He leaned back against the couch and looked up and the ceiling. "I… played sports in high school, I don't have very good sportsmanship, and sometimes I get really pissed off at stupid people."

"Who doesn't?" Alex queried with a shake of her head. "But, you have to wonder if sometimes you're the stupid person people get pissed with." Michael didn't say anything, and she glanced at him. "How did you play sports without sportsmanship?"

"I didn't say I was good," Michael replied.

Alex smirked. "What sport did you play?" _Football, probably. Or lacrosse._ She glanced him over. _Definitely football._

"I was a football player. Quarterback, actually."

"They let a kid with bad sportsmanship be a quarterback? The fuck were they doing at your high school?" Michael shrugged, and Alex huffed. "Alright. I did not play sports, but I tried my best to be positive when I was competing in like… A violin playing contest."

"They have those?" Michael asked.

"Yes," Alex said. "Not specific to violinists, but sometimes radio stations have competitions for aspiring artists to send in their music and win a prize." She shook her head before he could ask. "I never won. I can play, but I can't write."

"I'd give you encouragement, but I've never heard you play," Michael said. "Or anything you've written."

"And you won't, not until I get my violin back, at least."

"Where's –"

"Trevor's house in Sandy Shores."

"Ah."

"So, two, maybe?" Michael shrugged. "Whatever. I like animals, and I never really thought things would turn out like this for me."

"Does anything ever turn out like you expect it too?" Michael asked quietly. She looked at him in question, and he shook his head. "I mean… I did what I did in North Yankton because I thought things would be better for me and my family. Sure, I'm not dead yet, but my home life isn't the best. My wife hates me, my kids do their best to forget I exist…"

He trailed off and put his head in his hands. Alex didn't know what to do, so she slowly slid down the couch and touched his arm reassuringly. He glanced up, and she offered him a grin. "How bad can your home life be with me here?" she asked cheekily.

This earned a short laugh, and Michael let out a sigh. "True."

"Animals?" Alex prompted, and Michael nodded.

"Yeah, I like animals, too. Dogs, especially."

"Franklin's friend has a dog," Alex told him, sliding back down the couch.

"Does he?"

Alex nodded. "His name is Chop. He's a Rottweiler."

"Fitting," Michael said.

Alex pictured the fat dog in her mind, and she let out an "Eh." Michael looked at her curiously, and she waved her hand. "Intimidating on the same scale as… uh…" She grimaced and forced a grin. "So, quarterback, huh?"

"Yep. Allstate," Michael agreed with a content grin to himself. Alex hummed, and he lifted an eyebrow, his smile falling. "What was that?"

"Oh… I'm just surprise," Alex responded. "Quarterback. Fullback, I could see, but –"

"Hey, was that a comment on my size?" Michael demanded, looking at her sideways. Alex merely smiled, for real this time, and Michael snorted. "Believe it or not, I was actually very good looking back then."

"I believe it," Alex told him without meaning too. She immediately shut her mouth before she could say anything more. She diverted her gaze from his and mumbled, "I mean, you're not bad looking now, so… dammit!"

"Hey, Al, it's alright," Michael said with a small laugh. "It's nice to know that I still look good to you."

 _To me?_ Alex bit her lip, trying to hide a smile, and she looked away. "Yeah…" A silence followed, but it wasn't an awkward one. In fact, it was quite pleasant. Alex could feel Michael's gaze on her, and she glanced at him. "Yes?"

"Do you want to do the secret thing now?" he queried.

"Oh." She'd forgotten all about the original idea she'd come up with. "Sure. Uh…" _Maybe he wants to go first._

"So, how's this work? We just… both share something secret?" Michael asked.

"Yeah," Alex confirmed. "Preferably something that you haven't told anybody else. It forms a sort of connection between people."

"I see," Michael said. "Well…" He paused, and Alex could see he was trying to think of something. "Huh. For someone like me, you'd think there'd be a lot of secrets, but…"

"I could go first," Alex said hesitantly. "I mean, my secret isn't impressive, but-"

"If you want to go first you can," Michael told her.

"I don't _want_ too, but I will if you don't have a secret ready." She waited for a moment longer, but Michael didn't say anything. "Alright, I'll go, then." She cleared her throat and raised her hand. "I have never smoked weed nor taken any kind of drug."

"And that's a secret?" Michael asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Alex responded. "Don't tell Trevor I told you. He'll beat me."

Michael snorted and shook his head. "That was a boring secret."

"Well, what do you want from me?" Alex demanded. "I'm a very open book."

Michael gazed at her. "What's your last name?"

Alex felt the color drain from her face. "Why?"

"You're staying in my house, and if we want to get close, I figure I need to know your whole name," Michael responded. "What is it?"

Alex shook her head and looked down at the floor. "I don't have one," she whispered.

"How could you not have a last name?" Michael questioned.

"Why do you have two?" Alex said, voice harsher than she'd wanted. She quickly stood up and walked away from the couch, crossing her arms over her chest. "Can we leave it, please?"

"Al, I'm sorry. I didn't know this was a sensitive subject for you," Michael said gently. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want too."

"Thank you," Alex replied. "I appreciate it. I just… I don't like talking about it. My family was never really my family, you know?"

"Because of the parental issue?" She nodded, and Michael let out a breath. "I'm sorry, Al."

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea," she said after a moment of an uncomfortable silence.

"You mean the secret thing? I tried to tell you it was pointless."

"No, this," Alex corrected, unfolding her arms and holding them out. "Me staying here. I should go."

"Al, you don't have to," Michael said, standing up as well. Alex lifted her shoulder in a shrug.

"Maybe I'll come back, I don't know. I just… I need to take a walk or something." She walked towards the front door, passing Amanda and Fabien as she went. They were standing at the foot of the stairs, and Amanda gazed at her as she walked by.

Before she could open the door, Amanda said, "Why don't you stay outside next time? You seem to belong there."

"Amanda." Michael had followed Alex into the front hall, and he glared at her. "Don't talk to her like that."

"Fuck you, Michael!" Amanda shouted.

"That's exactly what you want to do, isn't it?" Michael retorted.

Amanda looked slightly taken aback by this, but she immediately regained herself. "I don't want her in my house!"

"This is more my house than it is yours!"

"No, she's right," Alex said quietly. "I'm sorry that I've overstayed my welcome, Mrs. De Santa." She pulled open the door and hurried out of the house before anyone could say anything else. Scurrying to her Mesa, she opened the door and started to climb in just as Michael came out of the house and jogged over to her.

"Alex, you really don't have to leave," he told her as she started the car. "I'm the one who pays for the house, and I get to say who stays here."

Alex shook her head. "I don't want to stay somewhere I'm not wanted, Michael. I already had to deal with that growing up." She closed the door, which put up a barrier between her and Michael. His phone rang, and she looked at him. "You might want to answer that."

He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it. "De Santa." He waited for a moment, shaking his head with a slight eye roll. "Yeah, Agent Douchebag. Hey, that poor son of a bitch we grabbed for you still breathing?" There was another pause, and Michael let out a muttered curse. "Great. Sounds just like my kinda party."

He hung up his phone and gestured for Alex to move over. She looked at him funny. "We have to go to a warehouse in Banning. Trevor's meeting us there."

"We?"

"Well, technically they only asked for me, but I don't want to go alone." He opened the door and pushed at her legs. "Move."

"What if I don't want to go?" Alex asked him.

"You don't have a choice," Michael answered simply. "C'mon. It's either you drive, or I do." Alex still didn't move, and Michael lifted his eyebrow at her. "I thought you didn't like to drive?"

Alex let out a breath and hopped over the console to the passenger seat. Michael climbed up into the driver's and looked around for her key. When he couldn't find one, he eyed her. Alex merely smiled sheepishly, and he shook his head before reaching under the steering wheel to start it.

"Why don't you have a key?" he queried as he pulled down the driveway.

"I think you can guess," Alex responded.

"Bad thing, stealing cars," Michael mused.

"Oh, don't act like you don't when it's the most convenient method of travel!" Alex muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out the windshield. "I thought of a better secret."

"Did you?"

"Yes. But you have to tell me one first," Alex said. Michael didn't reply at first, and she glanced over at him. From the look on his face, she could tell he was considering it. "Well?"

"Fine," he agreed. "I don't really think I love Amanda anymore."

That took Alex by surprise. She slid upright in her seat, folding her hands in her lap. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that," she said softly. Why, out of all his secrets, did he choose that one? She shook her head and looked at him. "I know Dave Norton."

"You know him? How do you mean?" Michael questioned.

"I mean, I knew him before you introduced us," Alex told him. "I'm not going to say how, but there ya go. That should be a good enough secret for you."

"Should I ask Davey?" Michael queried, glancing sideways at her. Alex shook her head, hard, and Michael smirked. "So, you really don't want me to know, huh?"

"I don't think Davey would, either," Alex said sternly. "Don't you dare say anything to him, Michael."

"I won't, I won't," Michael replied. "Jeez. What do you think I am?"

"Someone who would be smart enough to try and figure out who I am," Alex mumbled under her breath.

Michael gave no sign of hearing her, but she didn't doubt that he had. It took them a bit to reach the warehouse, and when they did, they found that Trevor hadn't arrived yet. Silently, they climbed out of Alex's Mesa and waited outside for him to arrive.

Michael pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and took one from it. He placed it between his lips and lit it with a lighter. Sliding the lighter back into his pocket, he took a long drag and blew out the smoke before saying, "Al, never smoke. It's terrible for you."

Alex shook her head at his stupid attempt at a joke and watched as Trevor's truck pulled up in front of the warehouse beside her Mesa. Trevor hopped out and sauntered over to Michael, shaking his head.

"Mikey," he began with a groan. "You gotta quit that shit, man."

Michael looked down at the cigarette in his hand. "Yeah," he agreed, lifting it to his mouth. "I know."

"I take speed mostly, and look at me," Trevor said, gesturing to himself. He brought up his fist in a fighting stance. "Boom, best shape of my life."

Michael and Alex exchanged a look. "Yeah," Michael said after a moment.

Trevor heard the sarcasm. "Yeah, I could still take you, sugartits."

"That's because you're fucking deranged," Michael explained. "Not because you're in good shape."

He took another drag as Trevor glared at him. "Hey," he started, "why don't you stick to doing fucking crunches and feeling bad about yourself, alright, pork chop?" Michael gazed at him in surprise as Trevor turned to Alex. "What are you doing here?"

"I was leaving the house and Michael decided to steal my car," she replied. "Which I was already sitting in."

"Ah, see, even now he doesn't respect the wishes of others," Trevor said with a sigh.

"Hey, fuck you," Michael put in before Alex could respond. Trevor looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You know, I'm beginning to think that's exactly what you want to do," he mused. He then grabbed Alex's arm and started pulling her up the stairs with him.

Michael let out a sigh. "Yeah, Jesus," he said, tossing his cigarette down. "I just said the same fucking thing to my wife."

The three of them walked into the warehouse to someone talking on the lower level. "Did you see his face that last time I popped him?" the guy talking was asking. Alex looked down to find Dave standing with two others, one she assumed to be Agent Douchebag, and the other who was talking.

Agent Douchebag, who she classified simply by the outfit he was wearing, looked upwards as they walked in. "Oh, ladies!" he said, holding out his arms.

Trevor immediately retorted with, "God, you're an asshole." He spotted Dave and pointed down at him as Michael tugged on Alex's sleeve to get her to follow him downstairs. "You, you back there," Trevor said as she did so, "I know you, but you. You I don't know."

The guy who had been speaking when they first entered shrugged. "Yeah, well, until I see a reason otherwise, why don't we just keep it that way?" he asked.

He turned to Agent Douchebag. "Steve, what a pleasure, bro. Oh!" They both chuckled, and Steve patted him on the back as he walked past Trevor, Alex and Michael up the stairs.

Trevor studied him as he walked, taking him in. "He reminds me of one of those guys you see advertising pills for middle age men that can't get erections," he said at last.

The guy on the stairs laughed as Steve tapped Trevor on the shoulder. "Hey, Devin Weston is a very good friend of mine, so why don't you watch your tongue? 'Cause, let me tell you something: that guy gets more tail than a…" He paused for dramatic affect before throwing out his arms. "A tail catcher!"

Laughing at his own stupid joke, he walked away from them. Trevor looked at Michael and Alex. "I'll have to fucking remember that line," he said as he walked over to a tool cart with a bunch of dangerous looking things sitting on it.

Alex flinched when she noticed the gas can with a rag draped over it. There could only be one thing that was for.

Steve finally realized she was there, and he pointed to her. "Who's this?" he asked no one in particular.

"This is Alex," Michael answered before she could. "She helped grab your guy for you."

Steve studied her, and Alex gazed back, doing her best not to flinch. "I didn't ask you to bring her," he said after a moment, thankfully turning away to look at Michael.

It was Trevor who responded, however. "Yeah, well, she's here, so what are you gonna do about it?" Before Steve could say anything else, he moved away from the tool cart and walked over to Dave. "You. Where did we meet?"

Dave casually lowered the cigarette he was holding and gazed at him. "Nowhere, pal."

"Yeah we did," Trevor said.

Michael intervened before he could say anything more. "Hey, ho. What are we doing here, huh?" he queried, waving his hands.

Steve had gone to the back of the warehouse and lifted a door. He went into the room and pulled out the guy Michael had grabbed from the IAA building, whose shirt was missing and hands were bound. He looked scared.

"This," Steve said, pushing him towards the chair beside the tool cart.

"Please…" The guy looked around frantically, trying to find help. "Keep the sick bastard away from me."

"No, no," Steve told him. "Ferdinand, he's gone, he's gone. It' okay, I've got some new friends here now."

Dave took the liberty of introducing them. "This is Michael, Alex, and this… is Trevor," he said, pointing to each of them in turn. Trevor studied the guy as Steve sat him down in the chair and Dave went on. "Now, our friend here, he claims he doesn't know anything."

"I don't," the guy said quickly. "I don't know anything. I don't know…" He trailed off as Steve finished taping his hands and feet down. "I already told – Nothing. I don't know an-an-an-anything." He looked up at Steve. "Please, please, sir."

"You know about the Azerbajanis," Steve said simply.

"Huh?"

"Azerbajanis!"

"I do audio visual, hi-fi audio visual," the guy said. "He's top man, good price, VIP, you know?"

Steve bent down and picked up the gas tank, shaking it to make the water inside slosh. Alex grimaced at the noise. She knew what it felt like to deal with that, and she didn't like it. Not one bit.

"You're a fucking spy," Steve said simply.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, I'm not spies," the guy told him.

"And the asswipes at the Agency know this," Steve went on, ignoring him. He picked up a set of blue handled pliers. "So, I need to know, what did you tell them, and what did they tell you?"

"I-I told them…" The guy was having a hard time, and Alex looked at Michael for help. He didn't look any happier with the situation, and he sent Dave a small glare. The other FIB agent merely shook his head, saying there was nothing he could do.

Steve pulled a table over to the chair and stuck something onto the guy's chest. Alex assumed it was a heart monitor, and when Steve flicked on the small screen, she saw her thoughts were confirmed.

Realizing what they were going to be doing to him, the guy panicked. "The house in Rockford Hills," he said slowly. "The man who owns it, he works at the consulate. That's all I know."

"That's it?" Steve asked him.

"That's it," the guy confirmed. "That's it."

Steve bowed his head and gestured to Trevor, who was standing by the tool cart with his arms crossed. "We're gonna make him speak," he said over the guy's repeated "no." Trevor held out his arms and walked over to the cart while Steve looked at Michael and Dave. "You two are gonna drive up to Rockford Hills, and when we find out which man is the man with the problem you put him down."

He handed Michael a black case, which Alex could only assume was a gun of some sort based on Steve's previous statement. "Because I'm tired of these fucking nitwits at the Agency taking all the fucking glory," he concluded.

"Alright, the fuck is all this, huh?" Michael asked.

"I think it's a good time, buddy," Trevor responded, picking up the pliers. He waved them at Michael. "You know, go for a drive. I have a thing or two to teach my protégé about one of my favorite arts."

The last thing Alex wanted to do was hang around while Trevor tortured this poor guy, but she also didn't want to go with Michael and Dave and deal with whatever happened if she did. Silently, she slunk over to where Trevor was standing by the cart and ducked behind him.

Before Dave could follow Michael, Alex grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him to a halt. "What did I tell you?" she hissed under her breath.

"I know, Alex, but it wasn't my decision," Dave responded. He pointed at Steve, who was busy brushing off his shirt. "He is my boss. I do what he tells me too."

"So figure out how to make him tell you to do something us," she growled. "Do something, David."

"Dave, let's go," Michael grumbled from the foot of the stairs. He and Alex glared at each other for another moment before Alex let him go.

Michael and Dave started up the stairs while Steve waved at the guy. "You get to work, and uh…" He put up his hands. "I'm not here."

"No, n…" The guy sounded rightly terrified, and he started to mumble something under his breath that Alex couldn't understand.

"Alright," Trevor began, pulling her up next to him in front of the cart. He gestured to each torture device as he spoke about them. Starting with the pliers, he looked at her and said, "These are for removing those annoying crunchy pieces from your meat." He tapped the pliers against his teeth before setting them back down.

His finger moved to what looked like bigger versions of the pliers, only there were two of them, and they were connected to a black box by a wire. "You use these to fry your meat," he told her. "Both at once cook more effectively than one at a time." He picked them up and hit them together. Sparks flew, and she heard the guy gasp behind her. "And it's mighty pretty, too."

Trevor set them down and picked up the big wrench. "Now this is for tenderizing your meat." He swung it a few times to get a feel for the weight. "Some places are more easily tenderized than others."

Alex felt a sickness in her stomach as Trevor put the wrench back down at looked at the gas tank. "Now this… This one is my favorite and the most effective, I believe," he said. "Makes your meat nice and wet, and gives them a clean taste."

"Oh," Steve said from behind them. "That ain't clean."

Alex winced. Even worse.

Trevor patted the tank affectionately and looked at Alex. "You can watch, and then, if we need some extra support, I'll let you help. Sound good?"

"I think I'll just… sit out on this one, T," Alex told him, taking a small step backwards. She wanted no part in this.

Trevor merely shrugged. "Suit yourself." He picked up the pliers and clacked them together a few times. Alex watched as the guy winced with each sound.

Steve was pacing restlessly in a corner. He didn't look nervous, but he did look like he didn't really want to be there. Alex knew they were waiting for Dave or Michael to call about the guy who lived in the house. She sincerely hoped it was the right one so that they wouldn't have to torture the poor fellow sitting in the chair.

When Steve's phone rang, Alex grimaced slightly. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it, listening for a moment. "Okay, okay, okay. Uh, you sure you don't want to silence him just to make sure?" he queried at last.

There was another pause, and he rolled his eyes. "Fine." He hung up the phone and pointed to Trevor. "Turns out that was the wrong Azerbajani. We need a new address from Mr. K. Choose your instrument, and go to work on him."

"Where do we start, eh buddy?" Trevor asked, glancing over his shoulder towards Mr. K, who pulled against his restraints.

"Wait. What are you talking about, the wrong guy? No. Who do you want?" he asked desperately. Just tell me what you want. Huh, man? Huh. Please. Look at me. Please."

Trevor didn't turn around at first, and when he did, he was holding the pliers. "Now, if you open up real wide, I might be able to reach back there and pull out one of those big ones," he told him, opening and closing the device.

Alex closed her eyes and turned away as Mr. K shook his head. "No, not the pliers. Are they sterilized?" A moment later, he was groaning in pain, and Trevor was grunting, trying to pull out a tooth. This exchange lasted only fifteen seconds before Alex faintly heard a tooth hit the floor.

"Best way to make a man talk, is to stop him being able to talk," Trevor said as Alex turned back around. Blood was dripping out of Mr. K's mouth, and his face was twisted in pain.

"Dat 'urts ooh mush," he mumbled.

Steve approached and crouched down in front of Mr. K. "Mr. Philips," he began, "ask him about Tahir Javan."

"Why didn't you ask me?" Mr. K cried. "I know Tahir. I did his home theatre. He lives in Chumash. The right, on the Western Highway."

"That wasn't so tough, was it?" Steve asked him. He straightened up and pulled out his phone. "He lives in Chumash. The Western Highway."

Trevor put the pliers back down on the cart and looked at Alex. "You sure you don't want to play?"

"No, I'm alright," she responded.

Several minutes later, Steve's phone rang again. He listened for a moment. "Yeah, er… I'll take care of it." He lowered his phone and looked at Trevor. "Loosen him up."

Alex shook her head and took a step backwards. She wanted no part of this.

"No, no, please, I'll tell you what you want to know," Mr. K begged. "No, no, please."

Trevor turned back to the cart and picked up the wrench, admiring it as he said "The anticipation is always worse."

"Really?" Mr. K asked. He looked up and saw the wrench. "Oh! Isn't there a small one?"

Trevor paced back and forth in front of him for a moment before he swung the wrench. "Watch the knee!"

Immediately, a blood stain came through Mr. K's pants as he screamed in pain. Trevor walked back to the cart as Steve went to Mr. K. He whistled and snapped a few times to gain his attention. "Hey, hey, hey, hey. Now? Now are you ready to talk?"

"I've been ready to talk since the day I got kidnapped six weeks ago," Mr. K whispered weakly.

"That's what we were afraid of," Steve said as Trevor reached over and wiped some blood off of Mr. K's cheek. "So, yeah, yeah, yeah, this guy we're after, what does he look like?"

"Average build, average height. Middle-aged," Mr. K groaned.

"Yeah, sounds like you're stalling. This better be enough," Steve told him. He lifted his phone up and spoke into it: "Middle-aged, middle height, middle build, whatever. He's dark, okay? He's Azerbajani for God's sake."

"We may need to pull out the water if this doesn't do anything for us," Trevor mused, studying Mr. K.

Steve groaned and walked back over to Mr. K. "That ain't gonna cut it, my friend."

"Shit. Shit. I-I – let me think. I remember…"

Steve cut him off with a buzzing sound. "Sorry, too late. Trevor, show out contestant what he's won today!"

"Alright!" Trevor agreed, turning to the cart. He picked up the sparkers and clacked them together. Sparks flew, and Mr. K wriggled weakly in his chair. "This'll put hair on your chest," Trevor told him.

"Trevor…" Alex started to say something to try and stop him, but she realized that the only other option was the water, and she decided that wasn't any more fun than being electrocuted, so she closed her mouth.

"Not the clips! Not the clips!" Mr. K exclaimed. "I remember, please!" Trevor stepped in front of him, and Mr. K looked away. "I'll die!"

Trevor hesitated for a moment before he clipped onto Mr. K's nipples and held them. There was a faint buzzing sound as Mr. K shook and groaned from the pain. The heartrate monitor's beeping increased tenfold, and Trevor pulled the clips away, leaving smoking nipples in their wake.

Trevor laughed. "Did you see his face when I did that?"

Steve walked back over and leaned over Mr. K's shoulder. "So, what do you got for us, hmm? We need Trev to shake up your memory again?"

"Oh, no, no, no," Mr. K begged.

"No, no, no," Trevor mocked him.

 _C'mon, Trevor. Don't act like you're having fun,_ Alex begged silently.

"Please, no. No, no, please, no. He's got beard."

"Oh, he's got a beard?" Steve asked.

"Big, bushy beard!" Mr. K agreed.

"Uh-huh?" Steve queried. "I think you're making this up."

"No, no. I'm not!" Mr. K said.

"Huh? Yeah? Bushy beard?" Steve straightened up and spoke into his phone again. "Got any beard types at this party? Huh? Because that's all Mr. K's given us. You know, I'm thinking we outta just take two bullets and put 'em in our informant and just call an airstrike on Chumash Beach."

Trevor looked at the gas can. "What do you think, Alex?" he asked her. "Should we use it?"

"No," Alex told him.

Trevor turned to her in surprise. "No?"

"No," she repeated. "I-I know what that feels like, Trevor. Don't do it."

Trevor studied her as Steve came back over to Mr. K. "It's going to be a long day until you give us some intel on our target," he told him.

"He's… he's got beard. He smokes, he smokes like a fucking chimney!"

Steve glanced up at Trevor. "I don't know, maybe one more time? Just to be sure."

Trevor didn't take the gas can. Instead, he gestured to the cart. "If you don't want me to use the water, you pick something," he said to Alex.

She flinched. Of course he would do this too her. Silently, she approached the cart and picked up the wrench again. Walking over to Mr. K, who gazed up at her with blurry eyes, she let out a breath. "I'm saving you from one of the worst things you would ever experience," she said softly before swinging the wrench and hitting his other knee.

Mr. K let out a cry of pain as Alex retreated to the cart and put the wrench back down. He was crying as Steve walked back over to him. "Mr. K?"

"I don't know anything. Please…"

Steve sighed and rested his arm on Mr. K's shoulder. "It's okay," he mumbled with an eye roll.

"He chain smokes… he's left handed," Mr. K managed.

"What was that?" Steve questioned, leaning down so he could hear easier.

"He chain smokes, and he's left handed," Mr. K repeated, doing his best to be louder this time.

"Ah, okay…" Steve told him. He retreated a few paces to talk into his phone again. "Any of the beardy guys at this party smoke cigarettes? Mr. K says he smokes like a pack or two a day."

"Redwood cigarettes!'

"Thank you, Mr. K." Steve's phone remained against his ear as Trevor looked at Alex.

"How do you know what it feels like?"

She didn't answer him. She didn't want to answer him. He would only ask more questions: _Why were you dealing? What about the fancy violin that you play so nice? What the fuck did you do that made people waterboard you?_

She didn't really want to explain to him that she'd snuck into a meth house to steal back her violin, gotten caught, and tortured before she was finally able to escape.

With a sigh, she merely shook her head, and Trevor gazed at her closely until Steve hung up his phone. "Woo! That is a wrap my friends!" He walked over to them, clapping his hands. "Excellent work." He hit Mr. K on the shoulder, and he grunted in pain as Steve went on, "Now, I've got a racquetball game to get to, so, Trevor, if you take care of Mr. K, I think we're all set!"

Trevor held out his arms. "What the fuck do you want me to do with him?"

Steve stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "I would say he's outlived his usefulness," he responded before continuing up the stairs.

"Oh, c'mon, please," Mr. K groaned.

"Shut up!" Trevor shouted at him.

"That's a sport," Steve called down the stairs.

Trevor waited for Steve to leave the building before he grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the tape binding Mr. K's hands and feet and pulling him up. "Let's go, come on," he said to him.

"Where are you taking me to?" Mr. K asked.

"Fuck, let's just go, okay?" Trevor queried. He looked at Alex. "I want an explanation later on, understand?" She merely looked away, and Trevor led Mr. K up the stairs and out of the building as he said, "I ain't gonna let those G-man fucking scumbags tell me what to do."

"Then why did you just torture me?" Mr. K questioned, stumbling.

"Don't ask too many fucking questions." Trevor helped him up to his feet again. "Let's go, get up. Come on, up the fucking stairs."

Alex watched them go before she let out a breath and brushed her hair backwards out of her face. "I'm gonna go see Franklin," she decided after gazing around the room for a moment.

* * *

 **Now it's time to spend three minutes trying to think of a clever name for this chapter. Wish me luck.**

 **It's probably not going to be very clever.**


	11. Past and the Presentious

**Shady Sweets McGee is today's MVP. I give you props for going to the gym - I can't even get myself to workout in my own home! I spend too much time sitting at my computer and doin' this stuff.**

 **Ah well. Some things just aren't meant to be, and that thing is me working out.**

 **I'm hoping I put enough "Alex thought" into this chapter; I adjusted it a lil' bit last night when I couldn't sleep.**

* * *

"Franklin." Alex jogged up to Franklin's house and frowned when she saw the look on his face. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothin'," Franklin mumbled. "I'm just tired, that's all."

"Oh, well, I'll come back later, then," Alex said, starting to turn away. Just as she was walking off, she heard the front door of Franklin's house open, and she turned to see an older woman come out of it.

"Don't you step foot in this yard," she warned Franklin.

"Why?" Franklin queried. "It's half my house."

"Nah, I'ma call the police," she responded.

"For what?"

"Disloyalty, boy."

"Disloyalty?" Franklin sounded exhausted. He turned and started to walk away just as Lamar came out of the house behind the woman, who followed Franklin towards the sidewalk.

"What is you talking about?" Franklin threw over his shoulder.

"Don't act like you don't know what it is, homebolio," Lamar replied. He was leading Chop on a leash, and he nodded to Alex, who lifted her hand in greeting. Lamar then turned back to Franklin. "You ain't been to the set, ain't came to none of the meetings."

"Hanging out with old men, ignoring your homies, acting all superior." The woman, who Alex judged to be Franklin's aunt, shook her head and pointed at him. "Your mama would turn over in her grave, boy."

"So you giving me a lecture about not being a good enough gangbanger?" Franklin asked, turning around to face them.

Alex was very confused. Typically, someone would want their family to avoid being in a gang. Los Santos _was_ different, though.

"Gangs is positive," Lamar told Franklin. "That's all we got, my nigga. That's our heritage." Denise nodded approval at his words.

"Ain't nothing positive about your crazy ass!" Franklin exclaimed. "Man, where Tanisha at?"

"She got more sense than to hang out with your sorry ass," Denise responded. "You know, you always been like this, boy. I say left, you say right. I say become a doctor, you say become a patient. I say - who is that?"

Alex turned in the direction she was looking just as Trevor sauntered up. He patted her on the shoulder and approached the others. "Hello, missy. Wow, Franklin, you never told me you had a sister."

"I'm Denise, Franklin's housemate," Denise told Trevor.

"And aunt, my mother's old dried up ass sister," Franklin added.

"Shut the fuck up!" Denise shouted.

"Yeah, shut the fuck up!" Trevor agreed.

Franklin looked over at Alex in confusion. She merely shook her head. She had no idea what was going on, either.

Trevor, meanwhile, had pulled some money out of his pocket. "Here, darling, why don't you go get yourself something nice," he said, handing the money to Denise.

"Thank you," she said, counting it. "This - this is seven dollars!"

"I said something nice, not expensive," Trevor told her. "You want to be a greedy fucking cow, huh?" Denise gazed at him like he was a bug, and Trevor pointed at the house. "Get the fuck out of here, alright?"

She scoffed. "You men are all the same." She then turned and disappeared into the house.

"Man, what the fuck you doin' here?" Franklin demanded of Trevor.

"I'm here with the boy, the boys," Trevor replied.

Alex let out a breath as Franklin and Lamar stared at Trevor like he was crazy. "What?" Franklin finally asked him.

Trevor sighed. "I'm fucking new in town, and I'm making friends, alright? Now, let's party."

"Look, I had plans on getting some rest until this clown and my aunt came and fucked that up," Franklin told him.

"My nigga, I just came over here to holler at you about that thing," Lamar explained, finally looking away from Trevor.

"Man, I said I'm tried, dog," Franklin complained.

"What fucking thing?" Trevor asked, looking at Alex for an explanation. "I love things, I'm the king of things."

Lamar put up a hand in his direction. "I ain't talking to you, homie."

"Hey, let's go do something about the thing, okay?" Trevor asked.

"What thing?" Franklin demanded.

Lamar glanced sideways at Trevor. "I'm talking about the little Stretch thing, man."

"Fucking beautiful. Perfect!" Trevor decided. "It's a gang bang, let's go." He walked past Alex in the direction of Lamar's van, tugging on her arm as he went. "Come on."

She looked over her shoulder at Lamar and Franklin. Lamar was gazing after Trevor with confusion on his face. "Who this fool, man?" he asked Franklin, who sighed and started to follow Trevor. "Where this nigga from, man?"

"Man, just come on," Franklin muttered, reaching back and grabbing his shirt to pull him along.

Trevor opened up the back of the van and ushered Alex inside. Chop hopped in, and then Trevor did as well, asking "Where's this thing happening?"

"Down Grove Street," Lamar answered from where he sat in the passenger seat. Franklin shook his head and started to drive in that direction.

"We shooting shit up?" Trevor queried as they drove past the train tracks. "Spraying some motherfuckers? I can drive by with the best of 'em."

"Sure you can, T," Alex chuckled. She'd never had a funnier mental image than one of Trevor leaning out a car window, gun out and firing rapidly as he shouted nonsensical things at whoever he was shooting .

"Behave yourself, man," Franklin advised from the front seat. "Lamar, what's happening? What you and Stretch set up?"

"We buying weight, homie," Lamar replied. "Something that will move us up the food chain, nigga, for real."

"Nothing's real in this town, nigga," Franklin told him. "Particularly where you and Stretch are concerned."

"Man, this is an investment opportunity. You got to speculate to accumulate," Lamar told him. Franklin pulled up in front of a house on a cul-de-sac. "This the homie house right here."

Alex did not want to be apart of this. Working with Trevor for his company was enough. It seemed she'd simply walked right back into the life she'd left behind, and she didn't know how she felt about it.

Still, she followed the others out of the van, Chop included. "Hey, look, everybody be cool man. Lamar about to do his thang, alright," Franklin warned as they walked up to the house.

They reached the front door, and Lamar knocked before glancing at them all. "Hey, be on point," he said quietly. "This fool janky." A guy opened the door slightly, and he leaned closer. "Courier service. Package to collect."

"You got the grip?" the guy asked.

Lamar lifted the bag he was holding and opened it, revealing a lot of cash. "Present and accounted for." The guy's eyes brightened, and Lamar chuckled. "You like that, huh?"

Alex glanced nervously over her shoulder. Why did she feel so exposed all of a sudden? There was something wrong. The hair on the back of her neck rose as the guy opened the door fully, a white brick in his hand.

A side glance at Trevor revealed he'd noticed the same thing she had. This brick wasn't genuine.

"Sample?" the guy queried. Lamar nodded, and the guy dug a section of the brick out with his knife. Lamar lifted it to his nose and sniffed.

He let out a woof and staggered backwards. "My throat's getting numb already."

"So we good, nigga, right?" Franklin asked. "Well, let's go!"

"How about a taste?" Trevor questioned. Alex glared up at him. Sure, it was fake, but that didn't mean Trevor had to act on it. She glanced over her shoulder again. The cul-de-sac was still empty, but that didn't mean Ballas weren't watching them from the shadows.

"No, man!" Franklin said quickly, much to Alex's relief. "We leavin'!"

"I want a taste of the other side of the brick!" Trevor said, pointing at it.

The guy shook his head. "No, you heard what your boy said. You're leavin'."

Trevor then did the one thing Alex had silently prayed he wouldn't do, and grabbed one end of the brick. "Gimme this!" he shouted, tugging. The guy held fast, and Trevor pulled harder. "Give it to me!"

The brick cracked in half, and Trevor held it up. Franklin and Lamar gaped at it in surprise as Trevor cracked off the end something inside. "Did we ask for a key, or a fucking ounce?" he demanded, throwing it down.

"Man, that's motherfucking drywall!" Lamar exclaimed.

"Oh sure, now you realize it!" Alex exclaimed, reaching for the gun he'd given her when she'd first arrived in Los Santos.

The guy panicked, just like Alex knew he would, and looked out towards the street. "Hey, we got some motherfuckin' buyers' remorse out here!" he called before slamming the door to his house shut.

"You can't fucking hustle a hustler!" Trevor exclaimed, pulling out a gun of his own. Alex followed him and Franklin and Lamar to a wall as a bunch of gang members jumped out, holding guns of their own.

"All you fuckers are dead!" someone shouted before letting their gunshots go nuts.

Alex ducked behind the wall, flinching as bullets hit the other side. She then rose up and fired at the guy on the other side, successfully shooting him in the head. He fell, dead, to the ground, blood spilling.

"Shit!" Lamar exclaimed. "Little Red's got aim!"

"Shut up, Lamar," Alex called to him. He'd run to the other side of the street to shoot a few that were over there. He carried a fancy looking gun with a long clip, and Alex envied how many bullets he was able to fire off before he had to reload.

Shouts went back and forth across Grove Street as the four of them worked their way down to the end to escape, since the Ballas had blown up Lamar's van. Trevor had just shot down the last opposing guy as there was the sound of police sirens, and then a car wailed around the corner and stopped just in front of them.

"Shit," Lamar said, coming up short. He glanced around and pointed. "Hey, c'mon, follow me dogs." He ran back across the street to the side the other three were on, hopping over a brick wall to the other side.

Franklin hurried after him, and, after Alex tugged on his sleeve, Trevor followed, boosting her up over the wall before climbing over himself. Lamar led them towards the LS River, where he stopped and waved. "Hey, that's MC Clip!" he said. "Clip, clip, wait right there dog, hold up, hold up!"

Clip was having a time with some jet skis and ladies in bikinis. A fashion shoot of sorts, if Alex had to guess by the cameras set up all over the place.

Lamar ran up to them and gestured to the skis. "Get on, man."

"What?" Franklin asked. Lamar pushed him forward, and Franklin climbed onto the back of one. Trevor and Lamar did the same, and Alex hurriedly hopped on behind Trevor.

"This way," Lamar said before blasting off down the water. Franklin and Trevor followed him, Alex holding onto Trevor for dear life.

"Damn, it stink in this motherfucker," Franklin shouted, shaking his head.

"Shit ain't no river, man, it's motherfucking sewer," Lamar agreed.

"Then we in the right place," Franklin said.

"Check that car, man, they coming!" Lamar exclaimed as Clip drove alongside them, gun firing.

"OC Ballas gonna fuck you up!" he shouted out the window.

"Lamar!" Alex exclaimed.

"What?"

"You and Stretch made a deal with the fucking Ballas! What made you think that was a good idea?"

"When there's drugs to be had, you go for it, Red! That's the rule of the hood!"

Trevor fired a bullet and it hit the car's tire, causing Clip to pull over and stop. Alex heard a helicopter and looked up. There was indeed a LSPD chopper flying over them. "LSPD! Get out of the water!" an officer shouted at them through a blow horn. "You're under arrest!"

"Stretch set you up, nigga," Franklin called to Lamar, saying what Alex was thinking. She'd never met this Stretch, but just from the fact that he had a nickname couldn't possibly be good news. "Yo' big homie a snake."

"He didn't know they was playing us for marks," Lamar responded. "That on their door."

"Man, you deluded," Franklin said in disappointment. "Least you got to meet MC Clip."

"Jacked that motherfucker," Lamar agreed.

"Was that who that was?" Trevor queried.

"Little brush with another celebrity. They flock, too," Lamar told them. Alex rolled her eyes. Of course he'd pull out the smallest little bright thing that had happened. Lamar Davis, ever the optimistic.

"Eh, we should race this motherfuckers!" he commented over the helicopter noise.

"We are racing, you idiot. Racing away from the dudes trying to kill us," Franklin replied.

"I mean another time!" Lamar shouted. "They got Seashark races all over the city!"

"Helpful as always, homie," Franklin told him.

"Let's split, my nigga, and keep our heads down," Lamar suggested as they rode underneath a bridge.

Trevor immediately turned and rode away from Franklin and Lamar, towards the Pacific. Alex glanced over her shoulder to see Lamar and Franklin riding away in opposite directions, and she turned forward again. "That was something else," she said to Trevor.

"Whoo, but it was fun!" he shouted happily. "Gangbanging, my new favorite pastime. It's decided."

Alex merely smiled and rested her forehead against his back. "You know something, T?" she asked him.

"What's that, princess?"

"I could get used to this," she responded, meaning everyone being together in Los Santos. Despite the shitty FIB situation they were in, Alex enjoyed having all of the friends she had made so close to one another.

Trevor merely nodded in agreement. "As it should be, Alex. As it should be." There was a silence for a moment, until Trevor said, "Are you gonna give me my explanation now?"

Alex flinched. "Do I have too?" She took Trevor's silence as an answer, and she let out a breath. "Back in Liberty City, I didn't just make money with my violin. I did some bad stuff, too. Unfortunately, one of the bad things I did went a little sour, and the people I was dealing with made off with my violin. I had to get it back, and so I trailed them to a meth house. It was a shitty, rundown building, and there was smoke coming out of the windows."

"Wait, hold on, let me see if I can guess the rest," Trevor said. "Your ass got caught."

"My ass got caught," Alex confirmed. "It was awful, T. They wouldn't let me go." She shuddered at the memory of being trapped in the meth house for a solid three days, getting waterboarded and beat up. "I just… I know how terrible being tortured is. It's not something I want anyone to go through, no matter who they are."

Trevor was quiet for a long moment, and then he let out a breath. "I'm sorry, Alex," he said. "I didn't know."

Alex shook her head. "It's was certainly something that I never want to happen again, but I'm kind of glad it did happen, in a way. I never fucked with drug dealers again after that." She grinned. "Well, at least until I got to Los Santos."

Trevor actually laughed. "I'm glad you did. Hey, listen, if you could bring up the idea of Michael getting flying lessons, I'd appreciate it."

Alex's grin slipped off of her face. "Flying lessons. What for?"

"The Merryweather thing, doofus," Trevor responded. "I'll need him to fly the Cargobob when we go in to fetch what it is we're fetching. If it gets destroyed because of his crappy flying, I'll be very angry."

Alex let out a muttered curse. "Alright, I'll talk to him about it."

"Good," Trevor said, pleased. "Now, I'll drop you off near a taxi, and you do that, okay?"

And so, with Trevor's help, she found herself paying a cab driver for driving her to Michael's house. She climbed from the taxi and let out a breath before jogging up to the front door. It was open.

Frowning, she pushed it open further and stepped over the threshold into the front hall. "Michael? You here?" she called.

"Yeah," came the answer from the kitchen. "I wouldn't come in here, though," he went on, bringing her to a stop just before she walked into the room.

"Why?"

"I uh – I don't have any clothes on."

Alex stiffened. "What happened?"

"Well, I'll give you the short version: my family left after Jimmy drugged me and left me on the street to get mugged," Michael answered.

Hearing this, Alex peeked around the corner. Michael was leaning against the counter, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He didn't see her, but she saw him. Including his bare back and legs only partly covered by a pair of boxers. Alex's breath caught in her throat, and she quickly ducked backwards.

"I'm sorry, Michael," she said, bowing her head. "Is there anything I can do?"

Michael was quiet for a moment, and then he said, "Yeah, could you give me a couple minutes to put some clothes on? I'll meet you outside when I've finished."

"Yeah," Alex said quickly. "Of course. Take your time."

She hurriedly exited the house, closing the front door behind her, and sank down onto the front step. She covered her face with her hands. What the hell had possessed her just then? She didn't really just lean around the corner and see Michael in his skivvies, did she?

And he'd had a nice butt, to boot.

 _Whoa,_ she thought to herself. _Where did that thought come from?_

"Ah, hell," she groaned into her hands. "Just admit it to yourself, Alex. He had a nice butt. What is wrong with me?"

"Plenty less than what's wrong with me," Michael's voice answered from behind her. She leapt to her feet in fear, and he held up his hands in a peace gesture. "Easy," he said gently. "Don't jump me. I already had to deal with that today."

Alex let out a breath. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, running a hand over her face. "I just – Trevor sent me to come talk to you about something he has planned, and I know you don't want to deal with something like that, especially right now, so I feel like I'm just making your bad day even worse –"

"Hey, Al," Michael interrupted, reaching forward and covering her mouth with his hand. "Stop talking for a few seconds and take a breath."

She nodded, and he removed his hand. She took a deep breath and let it out, closing her eyes as she did so. When she opened them, Michael was still there, looking at her through calm green eyes. "You good?" he queried.

She managed to give him a weak grin. "Yeah. Are you?"

Michael merely turned his eyes away and sat down on the step with a groan. "I don't know, Al. Maybe I will be, y'know? Once I realize that this could be for the best."

Alex joined him on the ground, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "Could be," she agreed. "Your family might be better off at a hotel or wherever they went while we deal with Trevor and the FIB."

"Exactly," Michael responded. A silence settled over them for a moment, and he let out a breath before turning to look at her. "So, what's this thing Trevor sent you to tell me about?"

"Well…" Alex went on to tell him about how Trevor was aiming to steal something from Merryweather, and how he wanted Michael to get flying lessons in order to prepare for it. "He wants you to bring Franklin, along, too."

"Great," Michael muttered. "And he expects us to help him with this without arguing?"

"No, I'm sure he expects an argument," she answered. "He probably just won't take no for an answer. I tried to tell him that you wouldn't want to help, but…" She trailed off with a shrug.

Michael grunted and studied the driveway. Alex watched him, waiting. Finally, he shook his head and climbed to his feet, holding out his hand to pull her up as well. "Guess I best go get those lessons," he said.

Alex took his hand, and he helped her up. Their hands lingered together for a moment once she was on her feet, and the met one another's gazes before Alex released his hand and brushed her hair behind her ear. "Do you need me to give you a ride?" she asked him.

"Yeah, that'd be nice of you," he agreed. If Alex wasn't mistaken, he looked semi-relieved that she'd broken the contact first. "Jimmy ran off with my car."

"I'm sure he'll bring it back," Alex said, leading the way towards the street.

"Yeah, sure," Michael sighed with an eye roll.

"Oh, shit," Alex muttered, remembering her Mesa was at Franklin's house. "I don't have my car."

Michael gazed at her for a moment before walking over to a Dominator that was sitting on the curb and breaking into it with a solid hit to the window with his elbow. Alex flinched at the shattering sound, but at least no alarm went off. She joined him at the car and leaned into the broken window, watching as he hotwired the vehicle.

"Listen," he said, "you go get your Mesa, and I'll go to flight school and take a few lessons," he said. "I'll call you when I'm fed up with it, and we'll see if Trevor is ready for me. Good?"

"Yeah, sounds like a plan," she answered with a nod.

"Alright," Michael said. "I'll see you soon, then." With that, he pulled away in the Dominator he'd just taken, Alex watching him go with a helpless look on her face.

"Shit," she said, snapping out of it. "I hope he didn't see that."

* * *

 **Alright, cool. Now we gotta think of a title for this chapter.**

 **Maybe it'll be... "Past and the Presentious."**

 **Sorry. _Fast and the Furious_ is on my mind today. **


	12. Trevor Yes!

**Fuck this mission.**

 **You don't get paid, and you have to go underwater. In a submarine. A submarine that controls terribly.**

 **And it's hard to write.**

 **This is not a good mission.**

* * *

"Alex!" Trevor greeted a few hours later as she entered Floyd's apartment. He was sitting on the couch in front of the TV, which he turned off as she walked over to him. "Did you talk to Michael?"

"Yes," she sighed, plopping down on the couch beside him. "He said he would call when he was done."

"Good, good," Trevor said. He studied her as she stared sullenly at the black TV screen. "Something bothering you, princess?"

"No," she mumbled absently. "I'm fine." She shook her head and turned her eyes to him. "Is everything ready?"

"Yep!" he answered happily. "We got our heli and our sub waiting for us at the airfield in Sandy Shores. All we need is Michael and his protégé."

As though his words had summoned him, Alex's phone rang. She pulled it out and answered it on speaker. "Hey, Mikey."

"Alex."

"M!" Trevor said. "Are you finished with your lessons?"

"Yeah," Michael responded. "I'm now a fully-winged pilot. Are we good?"

"Course we are!" Trevor told him. "Head on down to the apartment in Vespucci Beach. We're waiting for you. And make sure to call Franklin, too."

"Right," Michael grumbled on the other end. The call ended, and Alex slid the phone back into her pocket as the front door opened, and Floyd and Wade walked into the apartment.

Trevor rose, groaning. "Hi, Trevor," Wade greeted. "I missed you!"

"Hello, Wade," Trevor replied. "I missed you too."

"Hey, Trevor," Floyd said with a small look of desperation.

"Hey there, hot lips," Trevor answered, leaning over and cracking his back. "Listen, I got a knot the size of a baseball in here," he went on, straightening up and gesturing to his thigh. "It needs a little loosening up, alright?"

Floyd looked first at Wade, and then at Alex, who merely shook her head and stood up, joining Wade in the kitchen. Floyd let out a breath and walked over to Trevor, who'd put his leg up on the couch and was waiting for him. With a barely suppressed groan, Floyd began to message his thigh.

Trevor let out a moan of pleasure, and Floyd winced. Alex and Wade exchanged a bemused look.

The massage and groans went on for a while, until at last Alex heard the door open. Michael strolled into the apartment, and stopped when he saw the scene. "Trevor's hard at work, huh?" he queried after a moment, continuing forward. Wade offered him a mug of coffee that he'd made, but Michael held up his hand and refused it.

"Hey," Trevor said to him. "Where's the surrogate child?"

"Who?" Michael asked, playing dumb.

Trevor let out a huff. "The boy, with the stars in his eyes."

The front door opened and closed as Michael walked over to study the heist plan Trevor had drawn on the wall. "It's not like that."

"What's not like that?" Franklin's voice questioned as he came into the living room.

Alex gave him a grin. "Hey, Frankie."

"Ah, hey there," Trevor greeted, looking over his shoulder at him. He then looked at Michael. "You and him, the father-son issues?" He groaned again as Floyd continued to massage him. "Gives me the fucking creeps."

Franklin lifted an eyebrow at Alex before asking, "How's the leg rub?"

"Oh, it's excellent," Trevor answered. "You wanna go?"

"Nah, I'm good, dog," Franklin answered, walking over to join Michael by the wall.

"Hey, I called you boys here to discuss this job I've been planning," Trevor continued, walking away from Floyd to gesture at his plans.

"Yeah, Alex said you had something," Michael answered, "not that we want to help you."

"Shut the fuck up, Michael," Trevor growled. "You owe me, alright?"

"Hey, did you talk to Lester?" Michael demanded.

Trevor gave him an exasperated look. "I called him. He's in the hospital or something. We keep him out, and we keep twenty percent." He paused and shrugged. "Well, unless of course you go states again and uh… have me arrested."

"Hey, it wasn't like that," Michael said.

"It better not have been," Trevor warned.

Alex tensed, prepared to get in the middle of them if they started fighting.

Michael glared at him. "Yeah, like you give a fuck?"

"Oh, see, I give a fuck, Michael," Trevor responded, pointing at him. "It's a position, a fucking viewpoint, alright? Like God, like evolution, like anything else. Sunshine, boredom, lies? That's what we got. Other people, they have other worlds, but for me? I'm like a vulture, just circling the desert lookin' for fucking corpses, y'know? A carrion eating motherfucker. Do you understand that?"

Michael merely started to chuckle and pushed him away with a dismissive hand. "Wow," he said, beginning to clap. "Bravo, you fucking idiot."

"Man, I still don't get the score," Franklin said, thankfully interrupting before Trevor could hit Michael, which Alex could see was what he wanted to do. "What's the fucking plan?"

"We got Floyd! Now, Floyd's got –" Trevor turned around and saw Floyd, cutting off. "Not the – get the fuck out of here!" Floyd scurried out of the apartment, and Trevor turned back to them. "Now, Floyd here works at the port. He puts me on the Merryweather Security, who are running some tests out at sea for Uncle Sam. We're going to take whatever it is they're testing."

Michael looked at Alex and shook his head. She merely shrugged helplessly in response and Trevor turned around and walked into the living room. "Now, got a couple buyers lined up. I guarantee no problems and no major heat." He turned back around and looked at them, clapping his hands together. "Let's get going! Take our slightly past-it vibe to an airfield where I got a sub, got a chopper – I got everything we need!"

Alex threw her hands up in the air and followed him towards the front door. "Alright!" Trevor whooped. "Let's do this, ya fucks!"

He led them down the stairs of Floyd's apartment, picking up a few packages as he went. "Alex, we may need to blindfold you, as we're going to be changing in the car," he said to her.

"And, what about me?" Trevor merely looked at her. She turned her gaze downwards and eyed her clothing. Black cargo pants, blank tank top, black sneakers. "Oh."

"Michael!" Trevor said, turning to him. "You stay up here and change superfast. You're driving."

"Great," he sighed, retreating into the bathroom to put his outfit on.

Trevor looked at Franklin. "You good, kid?"

"Shit, sure," Franklin answered with a headshake. "I'ma get changed here, though." He entered a bedroom with his box, leaving Trevor and Alex alone.

She sighed and covered her eyes. "Change."

A few moments of clothing rustling later, the four of them were outside and climbing into Franklin's Buffalo. "To Sandy Shores airfield," Trevor said to Michael from the back seat where he sat beside Alex. Michael shook his head and pulled onto the road.

"That's quite a distance," he said after a moment.

"What's with this guy?" Trevor asked Franklin and Alex.

"I didn't realize we was going all the way out there either," Franklin said, giving Michael some backing.

"Why didn't you say something earlier, T?" Alex queried, giving him a sideways look.

Trevor gave her a muted glare in response before saying, "I've been told your generation are workshy, repeatedly, but this is the first time I've seen it for myself. You won't leave the city for the biggest take of your life?"

"Man, it's not like that," Franklin told him after exchanging a look with Alex from over his shoulder.

"Well what is it like, huh? You think the world owes you a living?" Trevor questioned. "You want money and respect, but you won't cross the street to get it."

"That useless millennials shit is more of a middle class thing. Where I'm from, hustling's still hustling, and going halfway across the state is uh… going halfway across the state," Franklin answered simply.

"Yeah well, Sandy Shores is the global headquarters for TP Inc., okay? So, we gotta make the trip," Trevor retorted, shaking his head and looking out his window.

"TP Inc.?" Franklin asked incredulously.

"Trevor Philips Incorporated," Alex answered.

"Industries," Trevor corrected. "It's my company."

"Industries or incorporated?" Michael queried from the driver's seat, speaking up for the first time.

"What?" Trevor asked absently.

"If it's TP Inc., it's incorporated, like Alex said," Michael explained.

"You're mocking me!" Trevor concluded, ignoring his calm explanation. "Nice. Is it so strange that I've made a success of my life? I know that wasn't what you wanted for me when you ran off, but still…"

"Trevor," Michael sighed.

"It's a business, Michael! An honest, American business, and there aren't many of 'em left." He paused as he looked at Alex for support. She merely shook her head and turned her eyes to her window. Trevor huffed and went on, acting like the previous conversation hadn't ended the way it did. "Hey, you know this airstrip we're going to? We're managing it."

"Yeah," Michael said with a laugh. "I hate to think what you did to the last managers."

"The Lost MC LLP experienced an unexpected downturn," Trevor said in answer. "We had to step in."

"The Lost Motorcycle Club?" Michael chuckled again. "Yeah, you're a serious business man, T."

"I cannot believe this!" Trevor exclaimed. He leaned up between the two front seats and eyed Michael closely. "The hardworking entrepreneur is getting shit from a guy so lazy he retired in his thirties –" He turned his eyes to Franklin. "- and then from this other guy whose sense of entitlement is so strong he asks, "How far we have to travel?" when he's offered a job he ain't even qualified to do!" Trevor leaned back in his seat and looked at Alex. "And! From one of his own employees who he took in out of the kindness of his heart!"

He shook his head in disappointment. "This is why the country is screwed! There's not enough me's, and there's too many you's."

"Yeah, a country full of you's – that's just what the world needs," Michael scoffed with a headshake of his own.

"Shit would get done," Trevor insisted. "It would be Darwinian."

"Hey, look dude," Franklin said, finally stepping in, "we helping you out, but if you think you'd be better off on your own…"

"No, no, no!" Trevor interrupted quickly. "Hey, look, hey, let's just…" He released a breath. "Let's just calm down, alright? We have a score to take. There's a profit to be made. I mean, don't that beat getting picked up by G-men and forced to work for free?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Michael muttered with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Talk us through exactly what's going on."

Alex turned her attention back to the conversation fully. She'd like to know what the final plan was, too, since she'd only been given a brief description the week before.

Trevor leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "We're going out to Sandy Shores…"

"I know that part," Michael told him, his tone sour.

"My guys will met us there, they'll have the submarine," Trevor went on, ignoring him. "I'm going to get into said submarine. There's an army chopper at the airfield. The three of you are getting into it; Michael's flying with his newly earned pilot's wings. He's gonna take off, pick up the submarine with me in it, and fly it out to a point off the coast, where I will be dropped into the ocean to find the thing we're taking."

"And what are Franklin and I supposed to do?" Alex asked him.

"You two are gonna be the eyes in the sky, and keep watch for any… disgruntled mercenaries that aren't okay with us stealing their thing," Trevor answered. "Sound good?"

"And when we find this _thing?_ " Michael questioned, pulling off of the highway they'd been driving on and heading towards the airstrip.

"Then you're gonna pick me up out of the water and fly us back here," Trevor told him with a nod to himself. "Easy as pie."

"I was never a good baker," Alex muttered, earning chuckles from Michael and Franklin both, while Trevor shot her another glare.

They pulled up to the airstrip, and Trevor climbed out of Franklin's car, holding out his arms. "And there's my submarine!"

Alex got out, too, and saw that Wade and Floyd were standing with a giant military helicopter. A submarine sat uncovered on the back of a flatbed nearby.

"Floyd, Wade, stand by the hangar," Trevor commanded. "You three, head into the chopper. Once I'm in the sub, Michael, you're going to fly over it and pick it up with their help," he went on, gesturing to the cousins. "Oh, and here." He pulled earpieces from his black jacket's pocket and handed them to the three of them. "We're connected. Let's move out, squad!"

"Jesus," Michael sighed, turning and climbing up into the pilot's seat of the helicopter. Franklin and Alex hopped in the back, finding two rifles sitting on the floor.

"Damn, this some heavy ass artillery," Franklin commented, handing her one.

"Only the best for my crew," Trevor's voice said through the earpieces. "I'm glad Michael got those lessons. Thank you, Alex, for convincing him."

"It's the only thing I'm good at right?" she questioned with a grin.

"Yeah, your good looks give you a nice boost," Trevor agreed. "Pick me up, M!"

The helicopter rose into the air and moved to hang over the submarine. Wade and Floyd hurried over and hooked the grappling hook dangling from the bottom of the chopper onto the yellow submersion vehicle.

"Connection is good!" Trevor said as the helicopter's altitude increased, taking the submarine with it. "I need to be dropped a couple of clicks west of Paleto Cove."

"Trevor," Franklin said, "you got your company's name sprayed all over this chopper, but uh – everything else about it says military."

Alex leaned out the side she was sitting on and studied the chopper. Indeed, in big red letters it was announced that "TP INC" was in charge of the helicopter and all its activities.

"Yeah, I got it from the military base," Trevor told him.

"And I'm guessing these guns are military too?" Alex asked, raising an eyebrow as she studied the rifle she had in her hands.

"Yep!" Trevor answered cheerfully. "If this thing gets hot, they'll come in handy."

"Hey, I thought it wasn't getting hot," Michael commented. "You said no major heat. In fact, you guaranteed it."

"It's a score, Michael," Trevor responded. "Even if you don't anticipate heat, you prepare for it. That's the code."

"That's why I don't take scores," Michael said with a sigh. "Not anymore. I'm out of the game, man."

"Oh really? You don't take scores?" Trevor asked him. "Hey, Alex, how did you say you knew Michael?"

She hesitated briefly before muttering, "We did a jewelry job together."

"Ah," Trevor said. "I see. Michael?"

"You told him about the jewelry store?" Michael demanded of her.

"He saw it on TV!"

"That wasn't us," Michael said, as though he'd be able to lie his way out of this one. Alex exchanged a look with Franklin. No wonder he always got into trouble.

"Oh, okay, okay," Trevor replied. "My mistake. It was a pretty tight job, though, eh? I mean, the planning was there, they went in right? They got out clean… I mean, there were some problems, but they kept their heads, right? Pulled it off?"

"Alright!" Michael exclaimed, loud enough to be heard over the chopper. "Alright! It was us. Of course it was us. Any other clowns would be in Bolingbroke."

"There _were_ some weak points. I mean, whoever fed that cheesy line to the parking guy – that was amateur," Trevor said with a sigh of disappointment.

"Yeah, show us how it's done then, T, if you're so professional," Michael insisted. Alex could hear the annoyance in his tone. "This job is certainly going to go well."

"Oh, it sure will!" Trevor agreed.

Michael grumbled something unintelligible as they reached the coast and flew out over the water. Alex gulped and backed up further into the chopped, hitting Franklin's back. He looked over his shoulder at her and gave her a questioning look. She merely shook her head and scooted forward slightly.

"We're approaching the drop point," Michael said. "That must be the testing station up ahead."

There was the sound of the submarine hitting the waves below as Michael released Trevor into the water. Silence passed through the earpiece, and then Trevor let out a happy squeal. "It's working!" he exclaimed. "I'm picking up a signal!"

"A signal?" Franklin asked him.

Trevor didn't respond, and there was an even longer silence until he said. "Alrighty-tighty McFlighty, I'm down here! My phone's hooked up to the sensors on the sub, boop, boop, boop! I got an app here that should pick up the signal, it's relaying the diagnostics from this thing."

"Come on, get to it, man," Michael urged, sounding impatient. "An ex-army helicopter hovering by this platform is gonna raise suspicions."

"I'll go as quickly as I can, alright?" Trevor muttered. "This sub isn't very fast."

Alex was very glad she wasn't in the submarine. She hated the ocean with a passion, for reasons she would not share with anybody.

"How're you doing down there, T?" Michael asked him after a few minutes.

"Ah, I'm staring into the abyss, Michael, and I like it," he answered.

"That's not a good thing, Trev," Alex said.

"Maybe not," he agreed, "but, what can you do?" There was a momentary pause and then Trevor exclaimed, "Ah! This looks like it; it's bolted to the seafloor. I'm securing." There was another pause. "Got it! I'm surfacing."

"Hey man, so uh, you got the thing," Franklin said. "What is it?"

"We'll know what it is when we can run some tests," Trevor answered simply.

"Well, what's it look like? What you think it is?' Franklin pushed.

"Ah… best guess… it was hooked into the rock, maybe on a fault line, so uh… could be a seismic suppressor to combat earthquakes and tsunamis. Or, no! Potentially it's like a fusion reactor running on sea water."

"Like, nuclear?" Franklin asked.

"Yeah," Trevor said appreciatively. "The good kind of nuclear."

"And is this what your buyer was after?"

"Yes! Oh, we'll for sure be paid, Frankie," Trevor told him. We will be well paid."

"Ah, I see ya down there," Michael said. "Coming down to get ya." The helicopter descended towards the ocean, and it shook slightly as the submarine clipped onto its grappling hook. Alex flinched at being so close to the water, and she scooted back another inch, bumping into Franklin. He looked over his shoulder at her, and she gave him an apologetic grin.

"You got me," Trevor said. "Now, come on, let's go back to the airfield." The helicopter rotated in the air and started flying back towards shore. "Push the stick, Michael, we gotta move, 'cause, I found this thing using an app on my phone, which means the private army guarding it can find it pretty easily, too."

"Ah, you gotta be joking me," Michael groaned.

They flew in silence for a few minutes, and, just as Alex was thinking they were home free, Trevor said, "Uh oh! Merryweather boats, coming right at us."

"Frank, Al?"

"Got'chu, man," Franklin answered, and Alex heard him start firing. Alex did the same, aiming for a small boat that was speeding over the water towards them. She aimed through the sights for the driver's head and fired. He toppled out of the boat into the ocean, and the vehicle went spiraling out of control.

"There's a helicopter on your side, Al!" Michael shouted.

"Yeah, I know!" she answered hotly, aiming. She fired, and the bullet went through the glass into the pilot's skull. The helicopter fell from the sky and landed with a boom in the forest below. "Jeeze, I'm glad that's not us."

"There's more in front of us," Michael warned. "Franklin, they're coming towards your side."

"Fuck those dudes!" Franklin said as another explosion lit up the nighttime around them.

Alex started to move to help him, but another chopper came up alongside them before she could. She fired at the engine closest to her, and it burst into flames.

"Damn," she breathed, watching as the helicopter pummeled towards the earth.

"I think that was all of 'em," Trevor commented through her earpiece.

"Good flying, Mikey," Alex said to him.

"Thanks, Al."

"Keep going to the airstrip," Trevor said, interrupting.

"What was that, T?" Michael demanded of him.

"I told you – that was Merryweather."

"Those choppers? Man, that ain't normal private security guards," Franklin said.

"You're right," Trevor told him. "I have it on good authority that they're actually a lizard army who've taken human form to do the bidding of the new world order."

"I hope you can flip this thing fast," Michael warned, "'cause I don't wanna see those reptile buddies of yours ever again."

Alex could tell by the wobbly flight they were taking that they hadn't avoided any damage from the guns of the opposition. "We'll be able to get back to the airstrip, right?" she questioned in worry.

"Yeah, just some minor issues is all," Michael replied. "Don't worry about it. We're already there, anyhow."

Indeed, they had reached the airfield, and Michael lowered the submarine onto the back of the truck he'd picked it up off of before landing the chopper beside it. As they climbed from the flying vehicle, Trevor burst through the hull of the submarine, arms open wide in a celebratory gesture.

"Do you know what you've done?" a semi-familiar voice shouted over the dying out sound of the helicopter. Alex turned to see Lester Crest shoving Wade out of the way and hobbling over to them on his cane. "The wire is going fucking crazy!"

"Oh, and good to see you too," Trevor greeted, climbing down from the sub to meet him. "What's it been, huh? Ten years?"

"After this, the government won't care how long it's been," Lester growled. "They're going to put you, and everyone you ever knew on their kill list." Michael and Franklin approached, and Lester pointed at Michael. "And you!" he shouted. "I thought you would be smarter than this!"

"What I do?" he asked him, holding out his hands.

"Stealing a super weapon to sell to the Chinese!" Lester exclaimed.

"Damn, T," Franklin said, turning to him. "This some nuke or some shit?"

"I thought you said you spoke to him?" Michael asked, glaring at Trevor.

"Yeah, I did!" Trevor responded hotly. "Okay? Kind of. I mean, he was all woozy and shit. It doesn't matter, alright? It's done, we've got it."

"Well, we could put it back," Alex suggested quietly, gnawing her thumbnail nervously. She'd known this would end poorly. Oh, why hadn't she stood up to Trevor?

"What?" Trevor demanded, looking at her.

"No, she's right," Lester said. "We could put it back, drop it in the sea. By the time they get their salvage operation together…"

"No!" Trevor shouted.

"Oh, so you want a drone circling your trailer?" Lester queried.

"We'll get you another score, Trevor," Michael told him.

Trevor growled as he stalked before the four of them, glaring at them all in turn before he whipped around and pointed at Michael. "You owe me!" He then turned to Wade and ordered, "Wade, get in that chopper! Listen to whatever this fucking moron has to say." He gestured to Lester.

"Okay!" Wade called, running towards the Cargobob.

"Alright, and on that note, I'm out of here," Michael said, turning and walking towards Franklin's Buffalo with Franklin on his heels. "You won't be seeing me back here in a long time."

"Hey!" Trevor shouted after him. "We need a score, remember?"

Michael merely waved his hand in response. Alex started to go after the two of them, but Trevor grabbed her by the back of her tank top and spun her around in the other direction. "You're going with Lester and Wade, and helping them put the stupid thing back in the ocean," he told her.

"Why?" she demanded.

"Because I fucking said so!" he responded angrily. "Now go!"

Alex let out a disgruntled huff and stalked towards the chopper to join Lester and Wade. She pushed Wade out of the way of the pilot's seat and climbed into it, deciding to put her pilot lessons Trevor had given her a while ago to use.

"You sure you know how to fly this thing?" Lester asked as he buckled himself in.

"Yes," she growled. She lifted the chopper into the air and picked the submarine back up with the grappling hook before turning the helicopter in the direction they'd just come from.

Within the hour, they'd dropped the super weapon back into the ocean and returned to Sandy Shores. Lester climbed from the chopper and looked at her in subdued approval as she turned it off and joined him on the sand.

"I'm impressed," he said. "You didn't really act like this on the job we did."

"Well, I'm better at other things," she muttered. "Are we done?"

"Yeah," Lester allowed. She turned on her heel and began to stalk away towards Trevor's trailer, but Lester called her to a halt. She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. "You ever need anything, you give me a call, alright?"

She frowned in confusion, but shrugged and waved her hand. "Sure, thanks."

With that, she headed for the trailer, shaking her head in annoyance as she did so. "Stupid super weapons makin' me stay up late," she grumbled under her breath. "Honestly."

* * *

 **I'm gonna go take a nap.**

 **Thanks for reading.**

 **Oh, before I go, I should probably say I probably won't be uploading chapters next week. It just depends on what I'm doing.**

 **Okay, later for reals.**


	13. Female Charm and Devin Weston

**Look how long this chapter is! Holy poop!**

 **Honestly! So long!**

* * *

"Wake up!" Trevor shouted into her face the next morning. Alex sat up with a startled yelp, sending a punch in his direction. Trevor groaned and clutched at his nose, stumbling backwards away from her. "Jesus, what the hell was that for?"

"Waking me up," she hissed in answer, covering her eyes with her arm. "What do you want?"

"We're meeting Michael and the G-men at that oil yard from before," Trevor told her, shaking his head. "They need our help with something. Let's go!"

Alex moaned and sat up with a yawn before following Trevor out of the trailer and towards his truck. How it had gotten there, she could only guess. Trevor looked at her in surprise. "You don't wanna get changed?"

"No," she muttered, climbing into the passenger seat. "Let's just go."

Trevor didn't bother to say anything more, and they drove to Los Santos in silence, Alex glaring out the windshield the whole way. When they reached the oil yard, they found Michael already there with Steve, Dave and some other punk Alex had never seen before.

"Here's Trevor and Alex," Dave said as they approached.

"Great!" Trevor said, holding out his arms in approval. "Looky, looky huh? Bunch of government shitbags and their favorite stoolie! What's he been telling you?"

"Oh, he just said how you guys were happy to help the government in any way you can," Steve announced, standing up.

"Oh really?" Trevor asked, giving Michael a look. "Because I was told if we helped out with that thing, which we did, then our past indiscretions would be forgotten in a haze of patriotic-fervor."

"Who told you that?" Steer queried. "Did I tell you that?" He approached Trevor and leaned up into his face. "I'm in charge here, fruity." He then turned to Franklin, who had just ridden up on his motorcycle. "You understand?"

"Not quite," Franklin answered, looking very confused. "Could you explain that again?"

"What I was saying…" Steve cut off, looking around at the four of them. He started to chuckle. "Oh ho, you're good," he said. He spread his arms out the boys' direction. "The three cunts." He then looked at Alex and sniffed. "And their dick."

Alex closed her fist, ready to punch him like she'd punched Trevor, but before she could, Dave spoke up. "Listen," he began, drawing everyone's attention. "We need help with something else. Some of the government, some of it is pretty corrupt."

Alex turned her back to him in disgust as Trevor covered his eyes, Michael his ears, and Franklin coughed into his fist.

"Not uh, not your bit, right?" Trevor asked after a moment, sliding his hands down his cheeks.

"Yes, but we're corrupt in a good way," Dave replied.

Alex turned back around and saw Steve had sat back down. "The Agency, they want to encourage panic so they can guarantee their budgets. That's how they get paid."

"It's a major problem," Dave said.

"And now they've secured some funds that we need to use in our fight against crime," Steve finished. "As a way of bribing corrupted officials."

"Really?" Michael asked. "And where are they getting that from?"

"Drugs," Steve answered plainly. "Those bastards love to sell drugs."

"Who doesn't?" Trevor asked, hitting Alex on the shoulder as he did so. She took a side step away from him, shaking her head as Steve sighed.

"We think they're gonna use this money to finance a war on our streets, and we need you boys to requisition that money for us."

"The bonds are leaving the terminal in an armored car," Dave said.

"Fuck you, Dave," Michael said, speaking the words Alex was thinking, though directing them at the wrong person. "We don't have time to prepare the right way."

Steve chuckled. "That's none of my concern. I cannot allocate anymore more resources to this." He walked away from them towards a car near the entrance.

Alex turned to Dave with a glare. "What did I tell you? Get us out of this mess," she said under her breath so the others wouldn't hear.

Dave ignored her, and he and the other guy stood up and followed Steve, Dave saying, "You'll be fine," as he walked past.

"Fuck you, Dave," Michael repeated angrily.

"And fuck you too, other guy!" Alex said to the one who hadn't spoken. He ignored her too and climbed into the car after the others, and they drove away. She shook her head as Trevor turned to Michael.

"Nice work, Slick," he said. "We're going to be doing pat downs at the airport before those fucking clowns are done with us."

"Y'know, fuck you," Michael growled.

"You're just handing out all the "fuck you's" to the wrong people today, Michael," Alex told him.

"What, do you want one?" he demanded, whipping around to face her. She held out her arms, ready, and he started to come towards her. Franklin got between them before he could reach her.

"Hey, hey, look man," he said quickly. "It is what it is." He turned Michael away from her and walked him back over to Trevor before sitting down on a box. "Now, how the fuck we gonna get this done?"

"I don't know," Michael sighed, walking away a few steps with a headshake. He stood with his back to them for a few moments before his shoulders straightened, and he held up his hand. "I got it! Classic blitz play. It's an industrial area, right? So I'm thinking vehicles. Trash truck to block, tow truck to sack 'em. We get some disguises, and we're golden. We just gotta hope like hell these are the kind of Agency men that don't carry a panic button with 'em. If they are, we deal with it. If and when."

Franklin shook his head and stood. "If and motherfuckin' when." He walked away towards his bike, calling, "I'll go get us a tow truck."

Trevor stood as well and clapped his heels together, saluting Michael. "I will keep my eyes peeled for a trash truck, General!" he told him before turning and heading for his Bodhi.

Alex watched them both drive off before she turned an apologetic look to Michael, who was already giving her one. "I'm sorry," they said at the same time, pausing, and then laughing. Michael shook his head and walked over to her before giving her a sideways hug.

"They piss me off just as much as you, Al," he told her.

Alex could feel herself getting red at being in his hold, but she didn't want to pull away and seem rude. Instead, she said, "I'll get the masks, and you get some… boiler suits?"

Michael's arm left her shoulder, and he nodded his consent. "Sure. I'll see you back here once we have everything."

He walked off and drove away, leaving Alex to close her eyes and wait for her heart to slow down before climbing into an abandoned Bobcat and heading for the mask store near Vespucci Beach, grinning to herself as she imagined the possibilities.

($)

She returned to the lot with a duffle bag in hand, the masks she'd purchased inside of it. Michael was already there, a bag of his own sitting on the ground next to him. He stood up as she pulled in and hopped out of the Bobcat, carrying the duffle over to him with a smile.

"Here you are, boss," she said, presenting him with the masks.

"Christ," he said with a small frown. "I don't like that smile. What did you get?"

"You'll see." She turned and gestured to the tow and trash trucks. "I see they did their jobs."

"Yeah, they're inside getting into their suits," Michael responded. He reached into his bag and pulled out hers, a drab red thing. "I can't believe they sell colored boiler suits," he said, passing it to her.

She shrugged and pulled it on over her clothing, not bothering to strip down first. She then pulled out her mask, probably the sanest out of the four she'd bought, and handed him the duffle with the others. "Here, take these to them. I'll wait out here."

Michael nodded and entered the building. Alex grinned and pulled on her mask, a red hockey one. Very normal and respectable. She then sat down in the dirt and waited for her partners in crime to emerge from the building.

When they did, she collapsed backwards, laughing harder than she had in a long time. They all had masks she'd chosen specifically to suit them. Trevor, a green monster, Michael, a skull, and Franklin, a patriotic superhero. His had been the hardest to pick, but she figured it fit him.

The skull's green eyes glared at her while the monster threw back his head in laughter as well. Alex sniffed and climbed to her feet. "So," she said cheerily, "how's this playing out?"

Michael shook his head and gathered them around him, holding up his phone and pointing at a map on it with his finger like a quarterback would draw out a play on the football. "Trevor, I want you in this position up here, okay? You're on lookout, give me a heads up when the armored car comes by."

"Okay," Trevor responded.

"I'm gonna be right here in the trash truck, blocking the road way," Michael went on. "Franklin, you're in the alley in the tow truck, and you're gonna push 'em into this yard here, where Alex and I are gonna be waiting to get the guys out of the truck and on the ground so we can take the cash, or bonds, or whatever it is." He lowered his hand and faced them. "Once we got it, I'm gonna drive it up to Haines's guy."

"It's all a little hopeful, homie," Franklin said, shaking his super hero head.

"As long as I am not on the ground when the shit goes down, okay?" Trevor queried.

"When the shit goes down, we'll handle it," Michael told him. "Everyone cool?"

"Shit, you the professional, dog," Franklin said, turning away and climbing up into the tow truck.

Trevor jogged over to his truck and climbed in to get to his bird nest. Michael nodded to Alex, and the two of them hopped into the garbage truck. "Once we get there," Michael said to her as they pulled onto the road. "I'm gonna block the street, and you're going to climb out and get in position."

"Right," she agreed, taking the automatic rifle he offered her with one hand. "Use my charm on the scumbags."

"Exactly," Michael replied. "Hopefully, your charm is better than your mask-picking."

"Hey, my masks are great," she huffed.

"Maybe yours is."

They reached Cypress Flats quickly, and once there, Michael pulled up short and handed her a headset, putting one of his own on. "Alright T, we're in position," he said, gesturing for Alex to get out and get to her spot. "What's the ETA?" he continued through the earpiece as she hopped out of the truck and ran across the street to hide behind a wall and wait for the truck.

"Hmm…" Trevor mused. "I got a visual on the target. Should be with you any moment. Better be on your way. Across both lanes, remember."

Alex watched the garbage truck move towards her and then turn sharply before parking itself in the center of the road, cutting off any way across except by driving over the sidewalk. Michael hopped out of the truck and joined her behind the wall, a gun in his hands.

"You're on, F," he said into his earpiece.

Alex saw the armored truck pull up short in front of the garbage truck, and the driver inside honked the horn.

"Hey man, I got these motherfuckers," Franklin said. All at once, he appeared from down an alley in his tow truck, barreling into the side of the armored truck and pushing it off the road onto its side. Alex immediately jumped out from behind the wall to do her job, pulling out a stick bomb she'd taken from Michael and attaching it to the back doors of the truck.

"Fire in the hole!" she announced, backing away just before she set it off. The doors bursts open, and she ducked into the truck, ignoring the single envelope lying on the floor and waving her gun at the two armored truck drivers. "Listen boys, today is your lucky day. You get out of the truck now, make sure you leave the cops out of this, and I won't have to shoot you. We can all walk away from this peacefully."

She saw one of the guys had his hand hovering over a button. "Why should we believe you, guy?"

Sighing, she moved her gun from where she was holding it over her breasts. "Because I can make it worth your while, handsome."

The two men exchanged a look, and Alex rolled her eyes. "I'd make up your minds quickly, loves. I've got a bit of a bloodlust."

"You really think we feel threatened by a girl robber?" one of the Agency men asked, climbing from his seat all the same, leaving the button untouched. She hit his partner in the knee with the front of her rifle to make him move faster. Once they were out, she fired bullets into both of them, Michael looking over at her in confusion.

She shrugged. "One of 'em made fun of girl robbers."

"I don't see any of the 5-0," Trevor announced. "It seems Alex's feminine charm worked just as well as her trigger finger."

Alex grinned proudly behind her mask. "You can all thank me later," she informed the two males on the ground with her.

"Good call," Michael agreed. "F, dump the trash truck. Alex and I will take care of the bonds."

"I got you," Franklin responded, waving his hand as he jogged away towards the truck. Michael and Alex watched him pull away before Michael turned to her.

"C'mon, I parked my rental car around the corner." He grabbed the only envelope that was in the back of the truck and waved his hand.

"I'll see you later, T," Alex told him via her headset. "Thanks for being our eye in the sky."

"No problem, princess!" Trevor answered. "Good job."

Alex followed Michael down the block, where she found a small red car waiting for them. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of it.

"Was this really the only rental car you could afford?" she asked.

"Unfortunately," Michael replied, gesturing. "Get in." Alex did as he commanded, settling down on the black upholstery. Michael climbed in beside her. "Apparently, we're heading up to the Tongva Hills. Steve Haines wants the bonds to go to some guy up there named Devin Weston."

"Oh," Alex breathed. "I've heard that name before... wasn't he the guy at the factory where Trevor "interrogated" Mr. K?"

"Yeah, yeah, I think so," Michael agreed.

Alex shook her head as he pulled away from the curb and started driving towards their destination. "I'm good at my job," she decided after a minute.

"It went well," Michael said with a nod. He looked over at her in approval. "Nice work, Al. I'm proud of you."

"I get better as time goes on," she said simply, leaning back in her seat and kicking her feet up onto the dashboard. She pulled the envelope that Michael had carried with him to the car up onto her lap and opened it. Inside were stacks of paper that weren't bills. "Pfft. Some rich fool's definitely going to have fun with these."

"Yeah, a rich fool who so happens to be friends with the FIB," Michael replied. "I don't know about this, Alex."

"Well, we're not supposed to question the FIB, are we?" she asked sourly. "Fucking Dave. I've tried to make this better for us, Mikey, but he isn't listening to me."

"Why would Dave listen to you?" Michael queried.

Alex blinked, realizing she'd just given away some sensitive information. "What?" she questioned, deciding to pretend she didn't know what he was talking about.

Michael shook his head next to her. "You know what – never mind. You're not going to tell me; that much is clear."

Alex let out silent relieved breath. That was something she appreciated about Michael; he didn't push too hard about anything. Maybe it was because he knew what it was like to hide something, and he didn't like people asking him about it, so he knew where she was coming from.

Sooner or later, however, she was sure they wouldn't be able to hide their secrets from one another any longer, and it was all going to come out in an emotional scene like the ones in the movies.

A few minutes later, just as they were driving up a road in the Tongva Hills, Franklin called Michael. "Everything good?" Michael asked him.

"Yeah, man, that trash truck is trashed," Franklin answered.

"Nice work," Michael praised. "We're about to meet this guy; I'll tell you how it goes." He hung up the phone and shook his head. "More like tell him whether or not we're getting paid."

"I want to know that, too," Alex said, furrowing her brow. "Masks cost a lot."

Michael let out a laugh. "I bet they do." He reached over and turned up the volume on the radio. Phil Collins was playing. "Ah, our jam."

"I don't care anymore!" Alex wailed out the window.

"Get back in here," Michael commanded, grabbing her boiler suit and pulling her down in her seat. She giggled, drunk with giddiness.

She was proud of herself. She'd actually managed to accomplish something while working with Michael and the crew. She'd impressed him. She'd impressed all of them.

And she'd impressed herself, too.

Michael shook his head at her antics and pulled up a driveway in front of what looked like a mansion. There was a gate in their way, and Michael took the envelope from her.

"Stay here," he said firmly. "You'll probably cause some kind of trouble if you come with me." He climbed out of the car and started to walk up to the gate and then stopped. He leaned into the driver's window and said, "Keep your hands off the horn."

Alex smiled sweetly at him in answer, and Michael shook his head, walking up to the gate. She watched him talk to the suited man standing behind it before it opened and he walked through. She could no longer see him after a moment, and she huffed to herself in disappointment, glancing sideways at the steering wheel.

Just as she was about to reach over with her foot and blow the horn, Michael returned, looking even happier than she felt. She straightened up in her seat, curiosity making all her giddiness fade away. Michael climbed into the car, cheering.

"Yes! I'm gonna work with a movie producer, Al!" he said to her, backing the car out of the driveway.

"A movie producer?" she asked, confused. "Where the hell did this come from?"

"That guy, Devin Weston. He knows Solomon Richards, and he said he'd introduce us," Michael explained. "I can't believe I'm going to meet _the_ Solomon Richards!"

"But are we getting paid?" Alex asked him.

"Yeah, yeah I think so," he responded dismissively. "Think about it, Alex, Solomon Richards. You know how many movies he's made that I watch over and over again?" He shook his head. "Fucking-a! Oh, call Franklin. I got a job for him, too."

Alex sighed and pulled out her phone, dialing Franklin's number. "Hey, Frank," she greeted once he'd answered.

"Hey, Red. You still with Mike?" he queried.

"Yeah, I'm here," Michael said. "Listen, I got an interesting opportunity for you. Acquaintance of Dave's."

"An FIB contact?" Franklin asked, sounding mortified. "Are you joking?"

"Relax, the guy's private sector," Michael said to calm his fear. "Very wealthy. It could be lucrative. Why don't you meet him and see what you think?"

"Alright," Franklin sighed after a moment. "I'll think about it."

"Alright, me and Trev and Al will be there, too," Michael said. "I promise you, it's a step up for you, a real opportunity."

"Sure, man, whatever you say," Franklin mumbled. The call ended, and Alex glanced at Michael as she put her phone away.

"So, we are getting paid?"

"Sure, sure," Michael answered. "Didn't you ask me that already?"

Alex pursed her lips and faced forward in her seat. "Whatever, Michael," she mumbled. "Let's go meet this producer of yours."

* * *

 **All right, so maybe it isn't as long as I made it out to be. But it's still fairly long!**

 **Chapter title?**

 **Female Charm.**

 **Yep.**

 **(Also, if anyone gets the references in the next chapter, y'all are my best friend.)**


	14. The Book of Mormon

**Well. This chapter is a _lot_ shorter than the last one, but, y'know.**

* * *

Oh, no. _She_ didn't get to meet Solomon Richards. She was dropped off at Lester's house with no word other than that he needed her help with something from Michael, who drove off right after booting her from the car. Alex let out a huff of indignation and shuffled towards Lester's front door, raising her fist to knock. It opened before she could.

Cautiously, she crept into the house, the door closing eerily behind her. "Okay," she whispered, gazing around at the posters hanging up all over the place. "I am definitely freaking out."

"Alex! Come in here!" Lester called to her from another room. Alex scurried out of the front hall only to be faced with more posters and figurines. Lester was sitting in a wheelchair behind a desk with three monitors sitting on it, and he rolled around to face her. "Thank you for coming."

"Why the hell am I here?' she asked him, allowing herself to come out of her crouched position, fear beginning to fade when she realized the figurines were actually from something she was interested in.

She walked over to investigate them as Lester said, "Michael told me that you're rather good at convincing people."

Alex hesitated and glanced over her shoulder at him. "Uh… I guess so. I mean, I was an actor..."

"Perfect!" Lester exclaimed. "Great. Okay, so here's the thing." He waved her closer with his hand, and she took two steps towards where he sat in his wheelchair, afraid to get any closer. "Every day, there's this Mormon who comes to my door, trying to get me to convert. I don't have a religion to convert from; I think they're all loony schemes to try and convince us that evolution wasn't a thing."

Alex glanced around the room. "Yeah, I could tell you were one of those guys," she mused after a moment.

"I don't know what to tell this guy," Lester went on as if she hadn't spoken. "He won't stop coming, ringing my doorbell… God, it's like he thinks that if he keeps coming back I'll actually open the door for him!" He shook his head and looked up at her beseechingly. "I need you to convince him to go away, and stay away. I don't care how you do it, but get him to leave me alone!"

Alex let out a breath and rolled her eyes. "Fine," she sighed. "I'll take care of your Mormon problem. When does he usually show up?"

As soon as she spoke, Lester pointed to the front door as it buzzed, announcing someone was waiting outside. Alex shook her head and walked back into the front hall. She pulled the door open to find a male dressed in black slacks, a white shirt and a black tie.

As soon as she opened the door, he began to speak: "Hello, my name is Elder Price, and I would like you share with you the most amazing book."

Whether or not he was surprised she had actually opened the door for him, she had no clue. He was doing a good of hiding it if he was.

"Ah," she said. "You're a Mormon."

"Yes, ma'am!" the Mormon replied cheerfully. "Do you know about our religion? If you do, that's great, because you might also know about our book!" He held out the black book he had in his hands. In silver letters on the front it announced it was the "Book of Mormon". "Would you care to give it a read?" Elder Price asked her. "It has so many awesome parts. You simply won't believe how much this book can change your life!"

Alex knew that she wouldn't be able to lie to this kid. He was too happy, and it would kill the small sense of humanity she had left if she sent him away with the sob story she had previously planned on using about how Lester had recently died and would never know the beauty of eternal life.

Instead, she offered Elder Price a grin and leaned against the door frame. "Listen, Elder Price, was it?" He nodded in confirmation, and she looked down at the book in his hands. "I have so much respect for Mormons. I mean, you're out here, riding around on your nifty bikes every day promoting your book. If more authors did that, I bet we'd have a thousand more bestsellers than we already do.

"But, the truth is, the guy living here? He just… doesn't want to convert, and that's the end of it. I hate to say it, buddy, but you're wasting valuable time by coming here every day to try and convince him. There are so many other people in this city who need your cheerful disposition!" Alex paused before going on to see how the Mormon was taking this. He was studying her, his brow furrowed, but she could tell by his eyes that he knew she was right.

She gave him another smile and continued: "I know a guy down in Rockford Hills who would benefit greatly from your daily visits. If you give me a second, I can write down his address for you, and you can go see him!"

Almost instantly, Elder Price's brow straightened and his grin returned. "That would be very kind of you!" he said happily. "I'll wait out here."

"Great, I'll be right back." Alex retreated into the house and closed the door, returning to where Lester was sitting, dumbfounded, in his wheelchair. "I need some paper and a pen."

He absently handed them to her, and she quickly scribbled down Michael's address. She put Dave's on there, too. She'd found it on the side table in Michael's living room. If anyone needed the Book of Mormon, it was these two. She avoided writing down Trevor's address; she didn't want him killing Elder Price.

Handing the pen back to Lester, she returned to the front door and opened it to find the Elder waiting for her, like he'd said. She handed him the paper, saying, "I would visit the second one first. The first one won't be home until tomorrow."

"Thank you," Elder Price responded. "Here." He handed her the book, and Alex took it without losing her smile. "You seem like you'd be interested in reading it." With that, he gave her a wave and walked away towards where his bike was waiting on the curb. Alex watched him ride away before she looked down at the Book of Mormon in her hands.

Shaking her head, she walked back into the house, closing the door behind her, and returned to Lester. She held up the book. "Free copy?"

"How'd you do that?" he asked her.

"Do what?" she queried, setting the book down on his bed.

"Get him to leave without cringing!"

Alex shrugged. "It's not hard. If you let them talk first, you'll realize what you have to do in order to make them leave you alone. Plus, you get back at the guys you're angry with. It's a win-win."

Lester gaped at her without speaking for a long moment. "You're good," he finally said.

"I know."

They spent the next couple of hours bonding over the figurines and other various topics. Lester told her about a few of the jobs from before that he'd helped Michael with, and how he'd known about the fake final job that had brought it all too an end.

"I'm glad he didn't tell anybody that I was involved with a lot of his other schemes," Lester said. "I don't need the government watching me."

"You don't think they are already?" Alex questioned, eyeing the computer setup he had.

"Listen, if they are, it's because they want to hire me," Lester answered, noticing where her eyes were focused. "So, what about you? What are you doing here in Los Santos?"

Alex told him about Lamar, and how she'd met Trevor and Franklin, and, finally, she told him about Michael. Lester watched her closely as she talked, but that didn't give her any pause to telling about how she'd really wanted to impress him, and how she'd felt awful about screwing up the jewelry store job.

"You didn't screw it up," Lester said with a head shake. "They got out with all the gems."

"I know," she sighed, absentmindedly picking up a magazine that was on the floor. "I just wish I had done better." She saw what was on the cover and yelped, throwing the magazine across the room. " _You_ need the Book of Mormon!"

Lester ignored that and continued on with their last topic. "Michael thinks highly of you," he told her, rotating his wheelchair around so that he was facing his monitors. "He thinks you're good."

"Well," Alex started, beginning to blush. "I mean… he can think what he wants, I guess."

There was a honk outside. "Ah, Michael's here to pick you up," Lester said. "Thanks again for your help, Alex. I really appreciate it."

"No problem, Lest," she answered, climbing to her feet and heading for the door. "You ever need help again, you give Michael a call. He'll tell me."

"Alright," Lester replied. "See you later."

She tucked her Book of Mormon under her arm and exited the house. Michael was waiting for her in his car by the curb, and he eyed her as she climbed in.

"What did he have you do?" he questioned.

"Oh, nothing big," Alex answered, sliding the Book of Mormon onto his lap. "Just talk to someone."

"Uh… what –?"

"Shh, Mikey," Alex soothed, cutting him off. "Let's go deal with this Devin Weston thing we're helping Franklin with."

* * *

 **Right. Now I have to go fix all the bloody errors that were in the last chapter!**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	15. The Red Prize

_**By the light (by the light by the light)**_

 _ **Of the silvery mooooooooon! (of the silvery moon)**_

 **Sorry, I'm watching The Haunted Mansion as I type this.**

* * *

"You're late, sugar tits," Trevor said to Michael a few minutes later after they had pulled into a construction site. He turned to Alex. "Why do you let him drive?"

"Hey," Michael warned, giving him a look before turning to whom Alex could now give the name Devin Weston and a dark haired woman with glasses. "So, what's going on?"

"Ah, you get to finally realize your childhood dream and dress up as a cop!" Trevor exclaimed.

Alex snorted, and everyone looked at her. She cleared her throat. "Sorry."

The woman shook her head and said, "Mr. Weston's research team suggests the two boys like to ride on the Senora Freeway." She turned away and climbed into the car waiting for her as Franklin shrugged and looked at the three of them.

"Sounds manageable."

Devin pointed to the older men. "You two get going," he ordered. Michael and Trevor exchanged an annoyed look before Trevor turned and headed towards the road. Michael lingered behind as Franklin spoke to Devin briefly. He looked at Alex.

"You gonna be okay staying with Franklin?"

"Sure," she responded, shrugging. "It'll make more sense for me to be with him rather than one of you on a highway patrol motorcycle."

Michael nodded in agreement and walked away to join Trevor while Devin hit Franklin on the chest with his hand. "Choose!" he exclaimed. "Now, are you gonna do this, or have you simply found your level in life?"

He walked past Franklin towards his own black car, leaving Franklin to look after him like he was nuts. "I guess we'll find out."

"I guess we will, homie," Devin retorted mockingly. He climbed into his car and drove off. Franklin looked at Alex before shaking his head and turning towards the car they'd left them with. It was a red Ocelot, and he hopped in the driver's seat. Alex clambered into the passenger's, rolling down her window as Franklin headed onto the street and began to drive towards the Senora Freeway.

"Shit," he said after a moment of silence. "Guy's crazy."

" _He_ needs to find _his_ level in life," Alex agreed, holding her arm out the window, enjoying the breeze the fast moving car was causing.

"I think he already did," Franklin replied, "and it's one way above the level of someone who isn't taking drugs."

They laughed as Franklin's phone began to ring, and he passed it to Alex, who answered it on speakerphone. "Mikey!"

"Hey, guys. How's it looking?" Michael queried on the other end.

"We're nearly with those dudes, man. You guys comfortable on your end?" Franklin asked him.

Michael scoffed. "Yeah, I guess. We look pretty ridiculous."

Franklin chuckled as Alex raised her eyebrows suggestively. "Alright, man, look, we'll see you soon."

"Yeah, we'll pick you up coming through Grapeseed. Get the drivers there, and get 'em going at speed," Michael suggested before the call ended.

Alex shook her head and let out a snort. "I wonder how tight those cop pants are on them," she questioned aloud.

"Not something I wanna think about, Red," Franklin replied with a small shudder. "Let's just get these dudes to race us, and we'll deal with the cop uniforms if we need too." A silence passed between the two of them, until he said, "Hey, you could probably help with this, y'know? Offer you up as the prize."

"Oh, sure," Alex laughed. "I'm definitely a prize to be won." She shrugged. "Let's give it a try. Maybe the little boys like cougars."

"This the place up here," Franklin said, pulling off of the freeway and up onto a rest stop. Parked underneath a gas station were a Cheetah and some fancy orange thing Alex had never seen before. They both climbed out of the car and Alex waved at the two boys standing next to the cars.

Franklin gestured to her. "She's nice, huh?"

"Yeah," one of the boys agreed, tongue hanging out. "What do ya want for her?"

"How about a race?" Franklin suggested. "Winner takes her home."

"Fool wants to race us," the other kid said. "Let's go, man!"

He hopped into his blue Cheetah, and the other one raced around to climb into his orange thing. Alex slid back into the car smoothly, and Franklin pulled out of the gas station, picking up speed after the boys as they raced away down the highway.

"Damn," he grumbled to himself. "This thing's slow as shit compared to those things."

"You sure you're not just driving slow, F?" Alex asked him cheekily.

"Oh hell no, Red," he said firmly, gunning the pedal down towards the floor. "I'll show you slow." He weaved through traffic, and actually succeeded in passing the Cheetah. He gave her a sideways glance, eyebrow lifted. "Slow?"

"Nah," Alex answered, "but can you pass the orange thing?"

Before he could try, his phone rang. Alex answered it, "We're coming up now."

"Alright," Michael replied. "We'll see you on the other end."

Alex hung up the call and glanced at Franklin, who had the strangest look on his face. Surprised, Alex held tightly onto her seat as Franklin easily weaved through a small gap between two cars.

"What was that?" she asked breathlessly when they were back in a safe position.

Franklin shrugged. "I dunno," he admitted. "Sometimes I just get so focused on drivin' that time slows down for me." He didn't offer her a further explanation, instead saying, "These boys just don't wanna slow down."

Sirens whirred behind them, and Alex looked over her shoulder out the rear window. Michael and Trevor were coming up behind them.

"Uh-oh," she said. "Might wanna speed up, Frankie. The 5-0 are behind us."

He let out a short laugh. "I can't go no faster, less I wanna get ahead of these dudes."

Franklin drove after the two cars, with Trevor and Michael following after them on their Highway Patrol motorcycles. Franklin's face got that same look on it several more times, and Alex didn't know whether to be grateful or terrified every time he'd weave through traffic, giving her a brush with death with no danger.

"LS Highway Patrol!" Trevor's voice shouted at them at last. "Pull over on this bridge up here."

"Damn, finally," Franklin sighed, pulling to the side of the road behind the other two cars. Trevor strolled up to Franklin's window and leaned in.

"Stay in the car, homie," he said. "We'll be back to deal with you and steal your girl later."

"Yeah, fuck you too," Franklin responded as Trevor continued forward to deal with the boy in the Cheetah.

Alex watched as Trevor convinced his boy to come out of the car, and then started to frisk him. "T!" she exclaimed under her breath with an eye roll.

"Taking it a bit far, ain't he?" Franklin queried.

"Get out of the fucking car, you pint sized prick!" Michael shouted from further ahead. Alex saw him pull the kid in the orange car out of it and toss him to the side before climbing into it himself. She grinned as Trevor pulled his own kid away from the car and threw him to the ground before she leaned over and kissed Franklin on the cheek.

"Race for me?" she asked him, climbing out of the Ocelot and running up to get in Michael's car. He looked at her as she sat down beside him, admiring the interior of the orange thing. "Nice," she said at last.

"What're you doing in here?" he asked her.

"Oh, y'know, friendly competition," she answered. "Just wait for it."

Trevor's voice came in through her headset: "Devin's lonely lawyer says go to Hayes Auto in South LS, so that's where I'll be waiting…"

"We'll see about that!" Franklin retorted.

"Go, Mikey!" Alex urged. Immediately, Michael drove off, leaving the other two behind. Alex laughed to herself.

"Hey, not cool, Red," Franklin muttered through the headset. "You in Michael's car."

"Like we said before, Frank," Alex responded. "Winner takes me home."

"You two can fight for the red prize," Trevor said. "I got my eyes set on a brown one waiting for me at Hayes Auto."

In order to avoid that topic, and too keep Franklin on his good side, Michael said, "Hey Frank. What did I tell you, bro? These cars. This is an opportunity."

"If you say so," Franklin muttered. "Right before I met you, I was boosting rides and racing 'em. It feels like it come full circle to me."

"Come on," Michael said.

"Nah, I'm serious. If you hadn't got me fired from my repo job, this exactly the kinda shit I'd be doing. So thanks, dog. First, you get me fired, then you steal my girl, and now, you bring me right back to where I was. Way to look out for me, homie."

"Speaking of your girl," Michael put in, "she's sitting next to me lookin' mighty fine, Frankie. You might wanna join me up here and prove that you're actually fighting for her."

"Oh, she knows I'm coming for her," Franklin replied immediately. "It ain't over 'til it's over, Mike."

"Dunno, Frank," Alex said, glancing over at Michael. "He looks pretty determined."

He grinned as he said, "Hey, look, Devin Weston – he ain't like anyone you worked for before."

"Man, he runs his mouth, wants me to boost cars, and most likely goin' be payin' me a fraction of what they worth. Don't sound that different, to be honest," Franklin replied.

"You must know who this guy is," Michael said quickly. "Look him up. He's the real deal. I've seen his house. He can make things happen."

"So…" Franklin began. "He, like, to you, what you were to me. I see your house, I think this dude can take me places."

"Yeah, maybe," Michael agreed. "Something like that."

"Hey, Alex," Trevor started. "Is that what you were thinking when you met me?"

"When I met you, it was in a dark aircraft hangar, and you had me tied to a chair, T," she replied, figuring that was enough information to answer his question.

Indeed, Trevor snorted. "At least I took you in, princess. I could've killed you instead, and then where would we be?"

"Probably not racing," Alex replied with a shrug.

"Probably not. What's your angle, Mike?" he asked.

"What you mean, like how am I going to beat your ass in this race?" Michael chuckled. "I think you can see how I'm doing that right now."

"I mean, is it just the smell of green? Or is there some other thing with this guy and you? It feels funky," Trevor replied.

"Hey, I'm just trying to do what's best for Frank. You know, help him make the best of the chances he's given," Michael told him. They're reached the city limits, and were driving out from underneath a tunnel into the city.

"Hey, if it's about the girl, I saw her first," Trevor warned.

"Not the girl, T," Franklin answered, "although, I would ask you to stay away from her. No sexual harassment in the workplace. Not on my watch."

"What are you two doing with Alex, then, hmm?" Trevor queried hotly.

To change the subject, Franklin asked, "Hey, your cars still alright, right?"

"Good to see you're taking this seriously, Frank. Good management," Michael praised.

"If I'm finna do this, I'm finna do it right. So, ah, how your car, Mike?"

"My car is just fine," he responded, "and so is the prize sitting next to me."

"Good, 'cause I'm in charge of this shit, and I will dock your pay if something happens to it," Franklin told him firmly.

"The stains on the seat were already here," Trevor said.

"Ah, Trevor, c'mon!" Franklin exclaimed in disgust. Alex let out a laugh. "Oh, good, you wasn't lying, M."

"Nah, what did you think happened to me, Frankie?" Alex questioned.

"Don't know. Anything's possible with that fool you riding with."

"Easy, kid," Michael warned. "Remember who got you started." They made it too the garage just before Franklin and Trevor, and Michael climbed out victoriously, hurrying over to Alex's side to pull open her door.

She hopped out, and he grabbed her in a hug right in front of Franklin. "Looks like I won, kid!" he taunted.

Franklin waved his hand. "Fuck it, man, it was clear who she wanted to win as soon as she left my car and went to yours."

Michael let her go, thankfully, because Alex was really starting to get warm, and they all followed Franklin's lead into the garage. Devin and his lawyer were waiting for them, and Devin held out his arms approvingly. "I love you all! God, this is gonna be fantastic!" he exclaimed happily. "One kid, a lady, and two old creeps." He shook his head at the lawyer. "Who the fuck would have thought it?"

She turned to the men waiting next to her. "Gentlemen, move the cars."

"Hey," Devin said. "Give me five, five, and five!" He lifted Michael, Trevor and Franklin's hands all before running down the line and giving them high-fives with a whoop. "Hey, chest kiss homie." He jumped up to hit Franklin, who put his hand up and pushed him away before he could.

"Dog, c'mon man," Franklin said. "You got the fuckin' paper?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely!" Devin replied. "Look, you finish the job, you get the paper, but… the order was for five cars. If I'm not mistaken –" He pointed to the Cheetah and the orange thing outside the garage. "- that's only two."

"Just give me the fucking money now!" Trevor shouted, started to go towards him.

"Oh, I'm so scared, I really, really am," Devin said mockingly, waving his hands. "But, you know what? I'm a payment on completion of work type of guy. You don't like the job, take a fucking walk."

Franklin went forward and pulled Trevor backwards. "Come on, man," he said to Devin. "What's next?"

"It's the Z-Type," the lawyer replied. "Chad Mulligan."

"Lay it on 'em, kid," Devin encouraged.

"Mulligan's a record producer," the lawyer continued. "He's going through a messy divorce, and he's hiding his valuable assets, including the car, so that makes it complicated. He'll clock any ground surveillance we run. All that we've got to go on is that the car is in a lockup in Hawick."

 _Well, she knows what's what_ , Alex thought to herself. _Maybe she's like me, and wants to impress the guy she's working for._

"So, we just go house to house?" Trevor queried, walking forward suggestively. He licked his lips, and Michael silently reached forward and grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"Not quite," the lawyer said, ignoring his advance. "We have access to an LSPD helicopter. The computer on board can ID pedestrians from a chip in their driver's license. Find Mulligan in Hawick, follow him to the lockup, someone on the ground collects the car."

"Alright, so, who does what?" Michael queried.

"The two of you are not needed for this job," the lawyer told him and Alex. "Philips, you're in the chopper, Clinton, you're on the ground."

"Yeah…" Trevor began, starting forward again. Alex grabbed the back of his shirt before he could get too far, but it didn't stop him from speaking. "I don't understand the deal between you two." He glanced from the lawyer to Devin.

"Yeah, well, I don't understand the deal between you two, either," Devin retorted, gesturing to him and Michael, "but you know what? Life is just one long mystery!" He gave them all a phony bow. "Buh-bye, lady and gentleman. Stay spiritual." He and the lawyer climbed into a car waiting for them, and drove off.

"Well, great," Alex sighed once they were gone. "We're working with a yogi. Lovely."

"You pick up that term from me?" Michael asked, giving her an appreciative look.

Franklin rolled his eyes and stalked from the garage.

"Dunno," Alex answered, barely noticing his exit. "Why, do you use it?"

"Hey, hey, hey," Trevor said, interrupting them. "Look, I get that Michael won the race, but that doesn't mean that whatever weird relationship is forming between the two of you should solidify, alright?" He turned to Alex. "Remember who didn't kill you, princess."

With that, he gave Michael a lingering stare and then exited the garage, leaving them alone. There was an awkward pause for a moment until Michael cleared his throat. "So, uh, what do you wanna do?"

"You wanna go see a movie?" Alex suggested with a small grin.

Michael returned the smile at once. "You read my mind, Al."

* * *

 _ **We'll keep it down!**_

 _ **We'll keep it down!**_

 ** _Oh yes we will, we'll keep it down._**

 ** _Oh, we're drivin' down a highway, yeeeaaaah!_**

 ** _And we're tryin' to keep it dooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooown!_**


	16. Best Friends - Gone Missin'

**So, hopefully the ending of the chapter isn't terrible. It only had like 1,300 words, so I was like, "I need to write some more."**

 **I did write more. In... fifteen minutes.**

 **And I don't have a title for this chapter. God dammit.**

* * *

Alex walked around Michael's house a few days later, wondering where he could be. She'd known that he was going someplace with Trevor, but he hadn't told her where. She stopped in his living room and let out a huff.

"Where are you?"

As if on cue, her cellphone rang, scaring her from the sudden sound in the silence of his house. She let out a breath to slow her rapidly beating heart and pulled it out of her pocket. "Hello?"

"Al."

"Mikey!" Alex sat down on the couch. "Where are you?"

"I uh – hey!"

"Hi, princess."

"Hey, T. What's going on?" she queried, smiling.

"Sugar tits and I are having a slumber party," Trevor explained.

"Really? Am I invited?"

"No, Trevor. She's not allowed to come," Michael said, his voice slightly muffled.

"Why not?" Trevor demanded. "She could add some much needed life to the party!"

"Excuse me," Alex put in. "Hi, yes, I'm on the other end."

They ignored her, and Michael said, "I don't want her mixed up with all this, alright?"

"It's not like Madrazo knows about her," Trevor responded. "Besides, if he sends his people to your house and she's there, what's going to happen to her?"

"Wait, hold on, this is about Martin Madrazo?" Alex exclaimed. He was the Mexican who had been the cause of the jewelry story job. "What did you two do?"

"Trevor stole his wife."

"I didn't _steal_ anything, okay? I simply took payment for the job we did for him."

"I told you to let me deal with it!" Michael told him.

"If I let you deal with everything, I'd probably be dead right now," Trevor retorted. "Listen, though, princess, maybe he's right."

"Why?"

"Because if Madrazo's people are watching his house, and they see you leave to come here, they might trail you, and find out we're here."

"Where are you, anyway?" Alex asked him. "Floyd's apartment? How'd you get him to agree to that?"

"Trevor, give me the phone," Michael said on the other end.

"I'm still talking," Trevor replied.

"I don't care. It's my phone, and I called her. Give it to me." There was a rustling, and then Michael's voice was clearer to her. "Al, listen, you're going to stay in Los Santos, and not leave the house unless you absolutely have too, okay?"

"And what do I do if someone comes to the door?"

"If someone comes to the door, you don't answer it," Michael said.

"Uh –"

"Wrap it up, Mikey," Trevor said, voice further away. "We have a thing, remember?"

"Wait, did you call Franklin? Should I call Franklin?" Alex asked quickly before Michael could hang up.

"Franklin… shit. Yeah, you can call him," Michael told her. "Listen, just be careful, alright? I don't want Madrazo to know you're in the house, in case he decides you know where we are."

"Which I don't," Alex said.

"Right, and I'm keeping it that way."

"Michael."

"Yeah, I know. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Mikey, wait –" He hung up, and Alex lowered her phone, studying the screen. Where the hell were they?

Shaking her head, she dialed Franklin's number, and, as it rang, she walked to the front door and peeked through the stained glass window on it outside. She let out a squeak when she saw there was a big black van parked outside the front gate, and she shuffled backwards away from the door, just as Franklin answered.

"Alex, what's going on?"

"Hey, Frankie," she whispered. "Listen, uh, Michael and Trevor got into some trouble with Martin Madrazo, and so they're in hiding. They wanted me to tell you, so you wouldn't come to Michael's house looking for him."

"Shit, that's heavy, Red," Franklin said, though she could tell he wasn't really listening. "Listen, though, I'm busy with that third Devin Weston job. Could I call you back later, and we can talk about this then?"

Alex let out a breath, but nodded. "Yeah, okay. Be careful, F."

"You too, Red."

He hung up, and she gnawed on her thumb, gazing at the front door. She needed someone to talk to her, to give her comfort until Franklin called her back.

"Lester!"

Quickly, she dialed the number Michael had given her, and Lester answered. "Alex?"

"Lester! I need you to talk to me and tell me good things," she told him, leaving the front hall and returning to the living room.

"Uh… why?"

"Because Michael and Trevor and Franklin are unavailable to do so," she answered simply. "Just – talk to me until Franklin comes back."

"Alright, what do you want to talk about?" Lester queried.

"Uh…" The doorbell rang, and she stiffened. "Uh-oh."

"Alex?"

"Don't hang up, Lester," she whispered. "If I don't come back, I'm dead."

"Alex, wait –" Lester's voice faded as she put her phone down on the couch and crawled on all fours towards the front door. Cautiously, she peeked through the stained glass and found the last person that she expected to see standing out there.

"Elder Price!" she hissed under her breath. Christ. How had the Mormon gotten past the baddies in the van? She looked past him towards the road, and saw that it was still parked there. Her best move? Ignore the Elder, sadly, and act like there was no one home.

She curled up in a ball beside the front door and waited twenty minutes, singing a medley of songs that lasted twenty minutes all together in her head as she did so. As she finished "Fortunate Son", she looked through the glass again. Elder Price was gone, and so were the baddies.

Letting out a relieved breath, she climbed to her feet and returned to the living room. Lester was still freaking out on the phone, and she heard him calling her name even before she picked it back up and put it against her ear.

"It's alright, Lest," she told him. "I'm good."

"What the hell happened?" he demanded.

"Well, you remember that Mormon I helped you with, and I gave Michael's address to? Well, there were some bad guys outside Michael's house, and he showed up to ring the doorbell. Instead of answering the door, I waited. Seeing that no one answered the door for the Mormon, the baddies left, and I'm okay!" Alex let out a breath. "I'm very proud of myself right now."

Lester was silent for a very long moment. "Okay," he said at last. "I have no idea what you are talking about by "baddies", but you know what? If you're proud of yourself, that's good. So, what the hell is going on?"

Alex told him about Trevor and Michael's misadventures, including how they had refused to tell her when they were hiding. "I'm very grumpy about that," Alex added for no reason other than that it made her feel better. "So, now I'm at Michael's house alone with no notion as to where he is, considering the one other place besides the apartment in Vespucci Beach is Sandy Shores, and Michael would've never let Trevor take him there."

"Hmm," Lester mused on the other end of the line. "I see. Well, hopefully he'll be able to come home soon."

Her phone buzzed in her hand, signifying that someone else was calling her. "Ah, gotta go, Lester. Franklin's back. Bye."

She hung up and answered Franklin's call. "You still alive, Red?" he asked her.

"Yep." She retold her recent experience for him. "I think they're going to leave the house alone, now."

"That's good," he said. "So, you alright, then?"

"Yeah, I'm cool. Thanks for calling me back, Frankie." She hesitated. "Listen, if you hear from Michael or Trevor, you'll call me, right?"

"Definitely," Franklin responded. "I'll talk to ya soon, Red."

"Right," she said, and then lowered her phone with a sad sigh. "And now I'm alone."

As soon as she spoke, the doorbell rang again.

Alex's head shot up, and she swallowed. "Uhm..."

"Alex?"

"What the -?" That was definitely not what she wanted to hear from a bad guy trying to kidnap her for information. Slowly, she stood and took a few paces out of the living room into the front hall. There was a dark figure standing outside the door.

"Alex!"

"Shit," she cursed, diving to the ground.

"Alex, open the door. It's Dave."

"You're not any better!" she called to him, covering her head with her hands, her phone still gripped tightly in one. "Go away!"

"Come open the door," he said. "We need to talk."

Alex let out a huff and climbed to her feet before approaching the door. She pulled it open and quickly grabbed Dave by his jacket and dragged him inside, closing the door quickly behind them.

"What do you want?" she demanded, crossing her arms.

"Do you know where Michael is?" Dave queried.

"No, I do not," she informed him. "Not that I would tell you even if I did."

Dave let out a breath. "So, I can count on you not telling me when you find out where he is?" he asked after a moment.

"Yep."

"Okay, good," Dave said, turning to the door. "I'll make sure not to tell you when I find out, then. Goodbye."

"Whoa, hold on!" Alex exclaimed, reaching forward and grabbing the back of his jacket. Dave glanced over his shoulder, his hand on the doorknob. Alex grinned. "Y'know, it wouldn't be fair if, you, with your many resources, found out where _my_ best friend was and didn't tell me."

Dave gazed at her without speaking, and Alex released his jacket, patting it back down so that it was no longer bunched where she had grabbed it. "So, y'know, if you feel any trace of sympathy for me when you find out where _my best friend_ is, it would be really, _really_ nice if you told me," she finished.

"Your best friend?" Alex nodded, and Dave lifted an eyebrow. "So, Michael is with Trevor, then?"

Alex opened her mouth to respond, and then she slowly closed it. She nodded again. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Michael's with Trevor. My... my best friend is Trevor." She crossed her arms again and turned away, heading for the living room. As she sat down on the couch, she saw that Dave had followed her, and was standing in the archway between the living room and the front hall.

"Don't you have someone to find?"she asked him.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, of course I am," she said dismissively. "It's not like I'm sitting here, worried about two of my friends, one of whom is my best friend, my best friend meaning Trevor, while I am alone in the other's house, fearing for my life because of some crazy Mexicans."

Dave frowned. "Mexicans?"

"Dammit, Dave!" Alex exclaimed. "Stop gaining information from my pain!"

"Well, you're giving it out freely."

Alex stood and pointed in the direction of the front door. "Get out."

Dave gazed at her for a moment longer before he silently turned and walked into the front hall. Alex followed him to make sure he left before she closed the door and locked it. With a sigh, she leaned back against it and slowly slid down the stained glass to the floor before covering her eyes with her hands.

"Trevor is my best friend," she repeated to herself. "Trevor. Not Michael."

 _Stop lying to yourself,_ a traitorous voice in the back of her mind said. _Michael is your best friend._

"You can't prove that," Alex mumbled to herself.

 _Really? Try me._

"No, no I believe you," she sighed, pulling her knees to her chest. "Michael is my best friend."

 _Yeah he is._

"He's my best friend, and I may have just sold out his location to the FIB."

 _Right,_ the voice said. _That may have not been a smart thing to do._

"Is it my fault Dave took advantage of my pain?"

 _Well, you could've just stayed quiet,_ the voice suggested.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks for telling me that now, conscious." Alex shook her head. "You're very helpful."

 _I try._

Alex pushed the voice back into the recesses of her mind and rested her forehead against her knees. "This sucks," she whispered to herself.

* * *

 **Indeed it does, Alex.**

 **Indeed it does.**

 **And... it'll suck until Friday, too. Whoohoo!**

 **You know what else sucks?**

 **I DON'T HAVE A TITLE FOR THIS CHAPTER.**


	17. You Don't Love Him, Right?

**Oh my God Choir Camp made my legs hurt.**

 **Hooooooly crap.**

* * *

"Franklin Clinton!" Alex shouted, walking up the driveway of the house Lester had given him and told her about. Franklin was outside, playing with Chop, and he looked up in fear as she approached.

"Run, Chop," he said, and Chop disappeared down a set of stairs. Franklin stood and approached her. "What's goin' on, Red?"

"Where are Michael and Trevor?" she demanded, storming up and sticking her finger in his face. "And don't bullshit me. I know you know."

"Red, easy –"

"Don't "easy" me, you piece of trash!" she exclaimed. "Where. Are. They?"

Before he could speak, his phone rang, and Franklin hurriedly pulled it out and turned away from her. "What's goin' on?" He listened for a moment, and then he let out a breath, giving her a glance from the corner of his eye. "Alright dog, I'm coming. I'll get there as soon as I can."

He put his phone away and looked at her. "Red, listen –"

"Screw you, Franklin," she muttered, turning away. "Go ahead and keep your secrets."

"Alex!" he called after her. She merely held up her middle finger in his direction and stalked away to her Mesa. She climbed into it and pulled around the corner to wait. She was following Franklin; he was definitely going to lead her to the others, and she wasn't missing this opporotunity.

It had been two weeks. Two weeks of no Trevor and no Michael, and barely any Franklin. Even Lester had avoided her, which gave her the suspicion that he knew where Michael and Trevor were, but didn't want to tell her.

Well… if he did know where they were, he would've told her when she'd forced Franklin's location out of him, but…

Whatever. The thing that mattered was that Alex was not okay with not knowing where Trevor and Michael were, so, here she was, waiting to tail Franklin towards wherever he was going, and when they got there, she was going to show Michael and Trevor just how angry she was at being left in the dark for two weeks. Two. Weeks.

It was the hardest two weeks she'd ever gone through, and no one cared. She'd had been all alone in Michael's house, without any of the people she'd come to know and love as her best friends nearby and willing to speak with her.

Assholes, the lot of them.

She saw Franklin drive past in his Buffalo, and she waited a few moments longer before tailing him down the road. He drove out of Los Santos and headed for an area she'd never been before. It was quite a drive, and as he pulled up near a pier looking place, night was beginning to fall. She watched him climb out of his car and head down the sand towards the water.

Alex climbed from her Mesa and followed, vision turning red when she saw a familiar suited figure already down there.

"Michael De Santa!" she screeched, storming the rest of the way to the pier and grabbing him by the jacket when he and Franklin turned around in surprise. She shook him angrily, suddenly unsure whether she wanted to start crying or punching. "Where the hell have you been?!"

"Al…"

"Don't "Al" me!" she cried. She bowed her head, resting her forehead against his chest. She was definitely going to cry instead of punch him. "I thought… well, I don't know what I thought, but honestly, where were you?!"

Michael let out a breath. Instead of pushing her away from him like she'd thought he would, he gently encircled her in his arms. "Trevor and I were hiding out in Sandy Shores."

"Sandy Shores." Of course it had been Sandy Shores. The last place she'd thought it would be. What else was new? "I can't believe none of you told me!"

"You know why we couldn't," he told her. "If Madrazo's people had found out you knew where we were –"

"I haven't seen Madrazo's people since the last time I talked to you!" Alex lifted her head and looked up at him. "That was two weeks ago."

"I know," Michael responded quietly. "Listen, I'm sorry, alright? I should've called and told you I was alright, but Trevor's had me doing a lot of stuff, and then we had to do something in Paleto Bay for this stupid FIB thing… I didn't have time, Al."

He wiped tears from her cheeks, which Alex felt get warm from his touch. Michael grinned at her. "You're going as red as your hair."

"Shut up," she mumbled, hugging him a moment longer before she backed away and wiped the rest of the tears off her face. "Where's the other piece of garbage?"

"I hope you don't mean me," Trevor said from behind her. She turned and jogged to him, and he scooped her up in a bear hug of his own. "Missed you too, princess."

"How's the company?" she asked as he put her back down on the ground near Michael and Franklin.

"Just peachy."

"What took ya so long?" Michael questioned.

Trevor waved his hand. "Business, Michael, business. Like Alex just mentioned, I'm the CEO of a big international cooperation. It's very time consuming. Nothing you would understand, y'know, being a gentleman of leisure."

Michael shook his head as Trevor looked at Franklin. "You know, Franklin, if there's one thing that you're going to learn from being around us, it's –"

"Plead fucking insanity," Michael put in, cutting him off. He hit Franklin on the chest. "That way, they can't fry ya."

"If you want something done, go to the busy man," Trevor concluded his original statement. He then pointed at Michael and said, "This rich fuck is useless."

Alex laughed as Franklin stopped Michael from going over to Trevor and hitting him. "I can only imagine what living together has been like for the two of you," she commented.

"Oh look!" Trevor said, ignoring her and pointing towards the distance. Alex turned and watched as Steve and Dave approached. "Boys, your boys, it's the Feds!"

Steve held up his arms as he got closer. "Hey, where's the other two?"

"What other two?" Michael asked.

"We told you to bring along six," Steve replied, giving Dave a look. "This is a six man job!"

"No you didn't," Michael replied while Franklin rolled his eyes up to the sky and Alex gave the two Bureau men a look.

"Dave did!" Steve insisted.

"No, Dave didn't."

"You said you'd do it," Dave told Steve stiffly.

"That is a frickin' lie," Steve shouted. "I do not get things wrong!"

"Alright, great," Michael decided, waving his hand at Franklin and Alex. "Then we're out of here."

"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!" Steve said, bring them to a halt as they started to walk away. "The three of your could do it on your own, without her help."

"And die? Fuck you," Michael said shortly.

"Yeah, and fuck you for thinking that they could do it without me," Alex added. "They can barely wake up in the morning without my help."

"Hey, last I checked, princess, I was waking you up," Trevor reminded her from where he stood by the water.

"You do your own dirty work," Michael continued before Alex could snap at him, too.

"I do my dirty work every day," Steve replied. "Keepin' the country safe from scum like you!"

"And you doin' a great job, sir," Franklin said sarcastically, clapping.

"Hey," Trevor said. He looked at Steve. "You want this job done? Then come with us." He turned and gestured to the water behind him before walking away towards the dock. "Come on Mr. Leisurewear and Mr. Depressed Accountant!" He paused on the edge of the water and held out his arms. "Let's go save America!"

"Who the fuck are we saving it from this time?" Franklin asked.

"This is the real deal," Steve answered. "My sources are convinced there's a plot in International Affairs, y'know the Agency, and they're using the facility to make a major nerve toxin."

"Hah, bullshit," Trevor insisted from where he remained by the water, throwing stones.

"Yeah, which they plan, in their mind-blowing insanity, to let a major terrorist release on a metropolitan area, so they can continued to get funding. Nothing increases funding for fighting terrorism more than successful acts of terrorism!" Steve declared.

Trevor reentered the circle they'd formed. "So, let me get this straight, then. Your –"

"There is no getting this straight," Steve said quickly, cutting him off. "That's the point. Now, we're doing this." He pointed at Trevor, Franklin and Alex. "You three are on getaway," he told them. "Fuck off, and make it happen." He and Dave walked off, Steve calling, "Michael, you're with us! What size flipper you wear?" over his shoulder.

"Are we really doing this?" Alex questioned once they were out of earshot.

"I guess so," Michael sighed. "Just… find something to get us, and possibly a dangerous nerve toxin, out of this research facility. I'll see you guys soon."

With that, he walked away, leaving Alex to gape after him while Trevor turned to Franklin. "We'll go to the airfield and get the Cargobob that the G-men bought with our Paleto score money. You and Alex will stay at base while I go and pick them up when they need me."

"Alright, dog," Franklin sighed. "Sounds like a plan to me, shit."

"Alex, let's go," Trevor said. Alex let out a huff and turned away from where Michael had disappeared with the FIB boys and followed Trevor towards their cars. "I'll meet you at the airfield," he said, climbing into his Bodhi and driving off.

"I guess we driving to Sandy Shores, then," Franklin concluded, heading for his Buffalo. "See you up there, Red."

"Yeah, whatever," she sighed, waving at him as she jogged towards her Mesa. "I miss them, and then I realize that I didn't."

An hour later, she was pulling into the airfield just behind Franklin. Trevor was already there, climbing into the Cargobob. He paused long enough to wave at them. "I'm off to pick up the government and their gimp," he called.

"If you bring the gimp back, and he's bleeding, I'll bleed you," Alex warned.

"You'd think you were in love with him," Trevor said with a shake of his head. He disappeared into the Cargobob, and the chopper rose into the air, flying away into the distance. Alex watched him go, and then she turned to Franklin, who was looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"You _don't_ love him, right?"

" _What_?"

Franklin shrugged. "I dunno Red, the way the two of you had your reunion earlier, and how red you got just made me think, is all." He titled his head at her. "You know Michael's married, right? Has two kids in their twenties?"

Alex let out a breath. "Yes, Franklin, I know very well what Michael's family situation is."

"Hey, Frank!" Trevor's voice could be heard through the headset Franklin had put on. "I need you to get us a flatbed from somewhere. Can you do that?"

"Shit, I'm sure I can find one," Franklin responded. "How soon you need it?"

"Well, seeing as how I'm only a few clicks from the research lab…"

"Right, I'm goin'." Franklin looked at Alex. "You good here?" She held out her arms, and Franklin nodded once before running off to find a flatbed. Alex glanced around the airfield, wondering why they all suddenly thought she wanted to have a love affair with Michael.

Sure, he was a good looking guy for his age, and he was definitely one of her favored people, but that didn't mean she was in love with him.

Shaking her head at Franklin and Trevor's ridiculousness, she turned towards the small town in the distance, weighing the option of running and retrieving her violin from Trevor's house.

Just as she was about to go do that, Franklin returned, honking the horn of a big rig. He climbed out of it as she studied the flatbed. "Where the hell did you find this?"

"It was parked up the road aways," Franklin responded. "Trucker musta hopped out for a piss or somethin'."

They both looked up at the sound of a chopper, and saw it was Trevor returning to the airfield, a box dangling from the Cargobob's hook.

"Shit," Franklin said as Trevor began his descent. "That thing has a nerve agent in it?"

"Guess so."

After gently setting the crate down on the back of the flatbed, Trevor landed the chopper and Michael and Dave hopped out. Alex didn't even think twice about why Steve wasn't with them when she saw Michael was bleeding from his shoulder.

"What did I tell you about the blood?" she growled at Trevor over the still-whirring chopper blades.

"Hey, if you wanna blame someone, blame the G-man," he responded, gesturing to Dave before ascending into the sky once again and flying away.

She glared after the chopper as Franklin approached the flatbed and gazed at the crate. "So, the chemical weapon in there?" he queried, glancing over his shoulder at Michael.

"If it even is a chemical weapon," Michael responded. "Hell, it could be shaving cream for all I know." He let out a hiss as Alex pressed the edge of her sleeve against the wound on his shoulder. He glared at Franklin. "Next time, you're getting wet. But there won't be next time, will there, Davey?"

The agent merely lifted his shoulders. "I'll do my best for you. I always try."

"Yeah, well, maybe this time we'll get lucky," Michael suggested, and then suppressed a groan. "What are you doing, Al?"

"Stop complaining," she ordered. "I need to get this wrapped so it stops bleeding."

"Since when are you a nurse?" Michael asked her.

"Since Trevor came home with more cuts and bullet wounds than I've ever seen before in my life," she answered. "Franklin, will you go in the hangar and try to find me some rags or bandages?"

"Alright," he said, jogging off to do that.

As he disappeared into the hangar, Michael looked at Dave again. "Maybe this time, Steve will succumb to the strains of enhanced interrogation techniques."

Dave merely chuckled dryly and began to walk towards the truck Franklin had brought. "Interrogate him, are you insane?" he queried. "They're probably decorating him right now.

"Hey, Davey!" Michael exclaimed before he could climb into the vehicle. "Your boys at the Agency are onto you, remember? You and Stevey!"

"Just try and keep your heads down," Dave suggested, pulling open the big rig's door and climbing into it.

"Ah, putz," Michael complained in annoyance as Franklin came back with a roll of surprisingly clean bandages. Alex started to wrap his shoulder, but he held up his opposite hand to stop her. "Let me change out of this wet suit first."

She bowed her head submissively. "Hey, don't pout," Michael said, raising her head by putting a finger under her chin. "I appreciate your concern, Al, really."

She gave him a small grin, and she and Franklin followed him back to the hangar. They waited patiently as he disappeared into his car and reemerged wearing some slacks and a white tank top. Alex approached him with the bandages, and he pulled out his phone, blinking when he saw what awaited him.

"Fucking-a!" he cheered.

"Stay still," Alex ordered.

"What's up, man?" Franklin asked him.

"My days in the wilderness are over," Michael responded. He looked down at his phone. "Lester. He settled up with that crazy Mexican motherfucker! Gave him the artifact!" He slid his phone back into his pocket as Alex finished her job, and he rotated his shoulder. "Now, as long as Trevor takes care of the wife, we're good."

"But what about him?" Franklin questioned, meaning Trevor.

"Ah, fuck him," Michael said dismissively, which earned a glare from Alex. "I mean, he likes the desert. Besides, we do one big score, we're all gonna have to go our own separate ways, anyway."

Hearing this, Alex looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"Oh, shit, I forgot you don't know," Michael said. He then waved his hand. "Ah, if we do it, you'll learn about it eventually." He shook his head, a dreamy look crossing his face. "Man, I can't wait to get back to that movie studio."

"Shit, I'll holla at y'all later, then," Franklin said. He gave them both fists bumps before walking out of the hangar. Alex heard his Buffalo start up and drive away, and she turned to Michael. He was shaking his head, still smiling.

"Al, I'm moving back in!" he exclaimed after a moment. "My life may be pain, but at least from now on, it's gonna be cool, comfortable, air-conditioned pain!"

She offered him a weak smile in response. "Let's get back down to LS, then, huh?" she suggested half-heartedly.

"Hell yeah!" Michael agreed happily. He hurried out of the hangar, whooping. "Blaine County can bite me!"

Alex closed her eyes briefly. She was glad Michael was finally coming home, but why did she feel sick to her stomach at the thought?

* * *

 **I feel like having a conversation before the beginning of the next chapter. Anyone have any questions for me they want me to answer?**

 **How about I ask a question, and you answer it?**

 **Okay, cool.**

 **Question: When (or if) you were in school, what was your favorite class?**

 **That question sucks balls. You don't have to answer it if you don't want to. You could ask me something instead in the comments.**

 **Go ahead. I'm not gonna stop you.**


	18. Scoping the UD (and Michael)

**All right, so, one of you answered my question and/or asked me one. Good start, you guys!**

 **GlossyFresh: Damn, you're in college? That's flippin' fantastic! Well, apparently you don't enjoy it, but at least you're out of high school forever. I still have two years of that crap.  
Also, English? Great class. I love it. I'd have to say my _favorite_ core class, however, is History. I actually want to be a history teacher if my writing career doesn't happen.  
And, you're reviews are never boring! I appreciate every single one of them. Don't stop. **

**All right, let's get into the chapter.**

* * *

Alex was sitting with Michael on his couch when her phone started to buzz in her back pocket. She stood slightly and pulled it out, frowning when she saw the caller ID. Giving Michael a look, she answered it. "Hey, Trevor. What's going on?"

"Alex…" She frowned even deeper when she heard his voice. He sounded like he'd just been crying.

"What is it, T?"

"I-I need you to come see me," he said quietly, sniffing. "C-Can you come down to the Vanilla Unicorn?"

"Sure," she answered immediately, standing. "I'll be there right away." She hung up the phone and shook her head at the questioning look Michael gave her. "Trevor needs me."

"Should I come?" Michael asked, beginning to stand as well.

"No, stay here," Alex answered. "I'll call you if we need something."

She jogged out of the house and climbed into her Mesa, which was parked beside Michael's Tailgater. Jimmy had returned it, finally, and it was sporting new wheels, as well as a new horn.

Quickly as she could, she drove towards the strip club in South LS, finding Trevor's Bodhi sitting outside. She slowly entered through the rear entrance, which was propped open invitingly, and found Trevor crouched over on a couch in what appeared to be the manager's office, head hanging.

"Trev?" she asked gently.

His head immediately lifted, and he let out a wail, reaching out and grasping his hands beseechingly. Alex approached him cautiously, and Trevor wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her stomach. Slowly, Alex rested her hand on his balding head. "What's the matter?"

"First, I have to return Patricia," he began, "and then, Floyd and Debra are mean to me, and then I have to kill them. Does nobody understand I'm having a bad day?" She could feel her shirt getting wet from his tears, and it took a lot of her willpower not to stiffen and pull away.

Instead, she leaned down and gave him a comforting hug. "It's alright, T," she soothed. "I'm here for you now, okay?"

He sniffed and pulled away from her, leaving a wet spot on her shirt. "Thank you," he said, gazing up at her with watery eyes.

She smiled at him. "What's a protégé for, huh?"

He gave her a sullen nod and allowed her to step backwards from him. He then stood up and held out one arm while wiping his nose with the other. "How do you like the place?" he asked. "I uh… I inherited it."

"It's nice," she responded. He walked over to the fridge and pulled it open. A body tumbled out, which Trevor quickly bent down and picked up to shove it back in. He reemerged with a beer, which he offered to her. She shook her head, and, deciding to not comment on the body, said, "So, I heard about the uh… big one."

"Oh, right!" Trevor exclaimed. He hopped over to the desk and picked up his phone, his mood turned right around. He dialed a number and was silent for a few seconds before he said, "Lester, it's me! Listen, what do you think about the Union Depository?" He paused as he listened to Lester's response, and then he said, "I know it's a bit of a stretch, but this is what we've been dreaming about! Call Michael and bring it up to him, and tell him to meet us at the Vanilla Unicorn to talk it over."

He then hung up and put his phone back down. "I think this could very well be a turnaround for us, princess," he declared, the crying he had just gone through completely forgotten..

She decided to not bring it up, and she nodded. "I agree, T. We could use a turnaround right about now." The fridge fell open again, and Trevor scurried back over to fix the problem. He leaned against it just as Michael walked in.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Before you ask, the fridge is broken," Trevor told him.

"You got here quick," Alex commented.

Michael merely raised his shoulders. "I may have been in the neighborhood." Trevor offered him the beer, and Michael refused it, saying, "No thanks, I've had enough of your hospitality."

He sat down on the couch as Trevor said, "I have changed my ways! I'm done with that crazy shit. I want to square things away with Merryweather, make sure the Agency ain't coming back after us, and then do one last big score!"

Franklin strolled into the office as he finished speaking, and Michael greeted him with a fist bump while Alex lifted her chin. "You get to go back to your family," Trevor went on once Michael had sat back down again, "and me? I'm just gonna live here, and run this – this good business, showing people a good time." He managed to open the beer with one hand and took a drink, almost choking as he said, "Bust Brad out of prison, and then, you know…" He paused for a moment, looking around at the three of them before he finished with a deranged smile, "Happy."

Franklin applauded him while asking, "So, how'd you come by this place anyway?"

Alex gave Trevor a sidelong look as he considered Franklin's question, the grin not leaving his face. "Had it for ages," he finally said.

"So, you must know Leon, the old manager," Franklin commented, sitting down on the edge of the desk.

"Leon?" Trevor queried. "No."

Franklin shook his head and waved his hand. "Yeah, whatever man. So, what's goin' on here?"

Lester came through the door at that moment. "What's going on," he began, closing the door, "is the big one."

Michael and Trevor exchanged a knowing glance while Alex sat down beside Franklin on the desk. Lester came into the room, looking wistful as he began his tale; "A long, long time ago in a faraway place, there were three guys. Michael, Trevor, and Lester."

"And Brad," Trevor put in.

"Y-Yeah, Brad was there, sometimes as well," Lester agreed. "I mean, there were other guys, though, too, so uh… anyway. We robbed and lied and we hurt people, pretty much lived a low life kind of existence… but, always dreaming of one thing, and one thing only." He paused for dramatic effect.

Trevor broke in before he could finish, however, and he said, "The big one."

"The big one," Michael agreed with a nod.

"The big one!" the three of them declared all together.

"What is the big one?" Franklin and Alex demanded at the same time.

"The Union Depository," Michael answered with a laugh.

"Around two hundred million in gold bricks, all taken from kindly Uncle Sam," Lester explained. "We'll spend the rest of our lives being hunted by government officials, if we live through the attempt, but!"

"But!" Trevor exclaimed.

"It'll be my –" Lester cut off and quickly corrected himself, "- _our_ masterpiece." He let out a breath and looked at them all. "So, gentlemen and lady, let's do our civic duty, and get out there and find some gainful employment!"

Lester then hobbled out of the strip club through the rear door. They all followed him, Alex bringing up the rear, and she heard the fridge open and whom she concluded was Leon fall out of it again.

She and Michael and Franklin all hopped into Michael's Tailgater, putting on their headsets as they did so. Lester climbed up into Trevor's truck, and they drove off ahead of the other three. "Alright, you there?" Lester queried through the headsets. "We're on a strict schedule. There's a couple of armored cars on a dry run to the Depository – intel suggests they'll be going down Innocence Boulevard in East LS at approximately fifteen thirty. Trevor and I need to map out their route for a possible hijack point, so we're going for his airfield in Blaine County, and coming back in his chopper to intercept. You three – all you got to do is take the temperature at the bank, see if there's anything that stands out."

His voice cut out, and Franklin looked over at Michael. "We… uh… taking the temperature?" he asked in confusion.

"Yeah, you know, getting a feel for it – security, exit routes, general vibe," Michael explained, pulling up to a stop in a parallel parking spot outside the bank.

They all looked out their windows, and Alex scoffed at what she saw. "Weak."

"Yeah, it don't look like much," Michael agreed.

There was a single guy outside the bank, and he had a bulletproof vest on, but his gun was hanging at his hip, and he didn't seem worried about an attack at all.

"Security looks light," Franklin commented. "We send in a couple a sprung niggas – clap clap."

"What are you talking about, Frank?" Michael questioned.

"Oh, I see it, man," Franklin went on. "Gettin' in the door's easy. It's a standard bank. It's getting underground that's hard. Ain't that where the metal's kept?"

"Right," Michael replied. "Now, we gotta stop outside the Arcadius Center down on Alta Street. We can get a view of the back from there."

He pulled back onto the road and started towards the new location. Alex looked at Franklin as he glanced sideways at Michael. "Hey man, you might not notice it, but I picked up a few things rolling with you," he said after a moment. "I mean, there's times when I think I got to be the senior partner in the group, from the way you and Trevor behave."

"Hey," Alex said from her spot in the backseat. "What do I do, then?"

"I'm sorry," Michael said, apologizing to Franklin. "There's history there."

 _Oh,_ Alex thought, biting her lip. _North Yankton._

They'd reached Alta Street, and Michael parked across the road from the bank's back entrance. "Look, light again, man," Franklin said as they looked out their windows.

"Yeah, fucking eerie, ain't it?" Michael questioned.

"Man, you'd think they'd put more than one motherfucker on our national fucking reserves," Franklin said with a disgusted shake of his head.

"Maybe they think they're invincible," Alex suggested. "I remember Trevor saying once how the government keeps anyone under their charge free from any kind of trouble. These bank guys might think robbers are included in that mix."

"Or, maybe we really are broke," Michael suggested instead. He reached up and touched the headset in his ear. "Trevor, how're you doing?"

"Well," Trevor responded, and Alex faintly heard a zipper, "like clockwork, Mikey. Like clockwork."

"Trevor, were you just pissing on the side of the damn highway?" she asked him.

"Yes ma'am," Trevor answered cheerfully. "When you gotta pee, you gotta pee."

"I was against it," Lester inserted.

Alex shook her head with a grunt of disgust. "Guess all we can do is wait," she said to the boys with her in Michael's car.

They did wait, for a long while, until Trevor finally came in again, "Come in, ground unit," he said. "We have visual on the convoy."

"Keep with 'em, T," Michael responded. "Do whatever Lest needs you to do."

"So, they're looking for a spot to ambush the convoy in case we want to do something along those lines?" Alex asked Michael.

"Yeah, which is smart," he responded. "It's always good to have multiple choices."

"Hey, M, are you ever gonna tell us what happened that made Trevor so uppity about the past?" Franklin questioned suddenly.

Both he and Alex looked at him in surprise. "Where did this come from?" Michael asked him after a moment.

"I just figured it was time for us to know," Franklin explained. "I mean, shit, we've done enough with you dudes to have reached that point, right?"

Michael let out a breath. "Soon, F," he said. "I'll tell ya soon." Two green and white trucks pulled around the corner and drove up to the bank's back entrance. "Ah, we see the trucks," he said into his earpiece. "It looks like we're gonna need some IDs to get in the building this way. I'm assuming that's doable, Lest?"

"IDs I can handle," Lester responded.

The three in the car watched as the guard outside the door had a short chat with the one driving the front truck before the door opened, and the truck rolled into the underground section of the bank.

"Well," Michael said after the door had rolled back down. "Maybe we could do this."

"And maybe not," Alex said. "Multiple choices, multiple endings, Mikey."

"I think I got everything to make some plans," Lester announced a few minutes later. "You can go ahead and go, Michael. I'll contact you once I have something."

"Alright, good work, team," Michael said before removing his headset. He pulled away from the bank and started for Franklin's house.

"So, how you feelin' about this?" Franklin asked him.

"I'm feeling pretty good," Michael replied. "We got Lester planning it – he'll get us options. There's you, a guy I know I can depend on, Alex, who's okay –"

"Bite me."

"- and then there's Trevor."

"Trevor'll get it done," Franklin told him.

"Will he?" Michael questioned incredulously. "I hope so man. I hope he holds it together."

"Eh, you ain't done too good of a job at that yourself, homie, you feel me?" Franklin queried, giving him a look.

Alex had to agree with Franklin on that end. Michael and Trevor had been meeting levels of frustration with one another since Trevor had come to Los Santos. It was only a matter of time before one - or both - of them broke.

"Yeah, well, I ain't pissed off hillbillies, bikers, a Mexican gang, some Chinese gangsters, and a private army, okay? So there's that," Michael said.

"Yeah, but you just pissed off the FIB, the IAA, and your family, man," Franklin reminded him. "You know what, I met Amanda, and I know who scares me the most."

"Point taken."

"So, you goin' tell me about this Brad dude, and the deal with the FIB? What happened in North Yankton, Mike?" Franklin asked him.

"I told you before, this ain't the time,' Michael replied.

"Man, we about to go in together on the biggest job ever been pulled. There ain't never goin' be a better time to feel me in on this shit."

"It's complicated, alright?"

"Fuck it, I'ma ask Trevor," Franklin muttered with a head shake.

"Don't ask Trevor," Michael warned.

Franklin looked at him, worried. "Shit man, you sound shady, dog. Real shady."

Alex chose to remain silent throughout all this. She knew most of the story, but she did want to know why Michael never seemed to want to talk about that Brad guy Trevor had mentioned before.

Michael sighed. "We'll talk, alright?" he asked, looking into his rear view mirror and meeting her gaze momentarily before turning his eyes to the road. "Just… later."

"Michael –"

"Later, Al," he muttered, pulling up in front of Franklin's house.

Franklin climbed out of the car and Alex slid over the console into the front seat as he called, "A'ight, holla at me."

"Hey, when he's got something, Lester will be in touch!" Michael responded. Franklin waved, and disappeared into his house, the front door closing behind him. Alex glanced sideways at Michael, but he avoided the look by shaking his head.

"Don't. Not right now."

"Michael, you need to tell someone," she said sternly. "I'm right here and waiting. Haven't I proven to you that you can trust me?"

"Of course you have, I just… there's Trevor to think about, alright?"

"What, you think I'm going to tell him, Michael?" Alex demanded. "I haven't told him anything else, have I?" Michael remained silent, and Alex let out a scoff before crossing her arms and glaring out the passenger window. "Alright, fine," she muttered. "I thought –" She shook her head, cutting herself off.

She was going to figure it out, whether she had to force it out of him, or find it out herself from some other source. She had a person she could talk too, though she didn't think he'd tell her anything.

No, her best bet was to try to work it out of Michael by giving him the silent treatment. She'd learned that was the best way to make him talk.

* * *

 **I hope there aren't any grammatical mistakes. I edited this at like 12 in the morning last night.**

 **As for a question for today... Do any of you watch FRIENDS? It's one of my favorite shows; I'm actually watching season 8 right now. If not, what is your favorite show, if you have one?**

 **Time to think of a chapter name. Whoohoo.**


	19. Dig Up the Secrets

**Hey. I'm tired. First weeks of school are hard, and I have a feeling it's only going to get worse.**

 **princessstark: Yeah, I've heard from my choir teacher that The Office is pretty amazing. I might have to start watching that, as well as Parks and Rec. Chris Pratt = happy Wiggs.  
Unfortunately, I have to watch all my TV shows on the Internet because I don't have Netflix. And... I'll have to find time to start watching them, too, since school started again.  
*shakes fist* Damn you public school system!**

* * *

"Hey, Al," Michael greeted the next afternoon, coming into the living room where she was reading the Book of Mormon. It was actually an interesting read; she'd learned a lot about Joseph Smith and his journey from Liberty City to the Promised Land out west. It was kind of like reading an adventure novel, just with a lot of "lo's" and holy words.

She didn't look up as Michael approached her, and she heard him sigh. "Are you still not talking to me?" She didn't say anything, and he snorted. "Well, you'll talk to me when you see what I got for you."

"What, is it someone's heart?" Alex asked disdainfully. He didn't respond, and she lifted her gaze, eyes widening when she saw a very familiar black case in his hands. "Is that –?"

He merely grinned, and she felt a smile spread across her own face as she set the Book of Mormon down, stood, and took the case from him, setting it down on the couch before opening it. She let out a squeal when she saw her beautiful cherry-brown violin resting inside of it.

"Michael!" she exclaimed, spinning around and giving him a tight hug. "When did you get this?"

"I picked it up from Trevor's trailer while I was out in the desert," he answered, returning the hug, which she released him from quickly in order to pick up her instrument and slide it into its place beneath her chin. "I was waiting for a good time to give it to you."

She pulled the bow off of its hook and slid it over all four strings. Her violin let out the most beautiful noise she'd heard in a long time, and she giggled like a little girl. "I've missed it so much."

"Play me something," Michael suggested, sitting down on the couch next to the case.

Immediately, Alex's joy faded, and she gave him a subtle glare. "Oh, no," she said. "Don't think we're friends again just yet. The violin was a big boost, but you still have some information to share with me." She removed the instrument from under her chin and put it back into the case. Replacing her bow as well, she then closed the case and pushed it down the couch so that she could sit next to him. Crossing her legs beneath her, she looked at him expectantly.

Michael let out a breath and shook his head. "I'm – I'm not ready, Al."

"It's been ten years, Michael," she reminded him.

"Do you think I don't know that?" he demanded, for whatever reason suddenly getting angry. He shook his head and stood up, pacing in front of her a few times before he stopped and looked at her. "I can't… this information isn't ready to come out yet, Alex."

"It's going to come out eventually, Mikey," she said, deciding to be gentle. "Isn't it best if it comes out before things go to shit because of it coming out, so you have at least one person on your side?"

He stared at her, and she could see he was thinking about her offer. After a long moment, he shook his head and turned, beginning to walk out of the living room. Alex let out a breath and rose to her feet.

"Michael!" He stopped walking away from her, and she saw his hand tighten into a fist. Alex was going to figure this out right now. "What happened?"

"What happened?" he repeated under his breath.

"Yes," she confirmed bitterly. "In North Yankton. Ten years ago. Your last score, your… retirement? Ring any bells?" Michael visibly winced, and Alex took a step closer to him. "How far does this thing stretch, Mikey? What did you do?"

Michael's head bowed, and he slowly turned around to face her. "I made a deal with Dave," he began, his voice quiet. "It was supposed to be a way out for me and my family. Trevor and I... we'd done so much, Al, and it was great when I had nothing to live for, but… I had a wife and two kids by then. Trevor… Trevor didn't have anything."

Alex blinked and staggered backwards, suddenly understanding Michael's words before, when he'd given her and Franklin the short version. "The wrong guy got killed…" She shook her head. "Dave was supposed to kill Trevor, but he shot Brad instead." Michael didn't say anything, but she could see it in his eyes. "I - I don't believe this. You were going to kill Trevor."

"Trevor would have killed us!" Michael said, starting to grow defensive. "He was getting crazy, wanting to go on more and more jobs. He didn't realize that I was different from him, and he didn't understand that I had reasons to live! Trevor had nothing, and so… Dave and I –"

"You took advantage of the situation." Alex couldn't believe what she was hearing. "And so, what, Brad died? Is he buried in your grave in North Yankton?" Michael remained silent, and she turned away from him, seeing that she'd hit it right on the nose. She felt like she was going to vomit. "I - I can't even look at you right now."

"Alex, don't… don't be angry with me," Michael said. "I couldn't deal with it."

"You can't _deal_ with it?" Alex asked in exasperation. "What did you think was going to happen, Michael? That your secrets would disappear into the shadows? That no one would ever find out?" She scoffed and took a further step back. "You were willing to give your best friend's life to keep yourself safe."

Michael let out a dry chuckle. "Like you're any different. You've been keeping secrets, too. Don't bother denying it."

"My secrets are nothing like yours," Alex retorted, suddenly feeling defensive. What right did he have to put her on the spot when they were discussing him? She decided to drop the topic of her secrets then and there and said, "You know what? The only thing I can say right now is that you are very, very lucky I'm not going to tell Trevor."

"Why not?" Michael asked her. "There's no reason for you not to. You might as well; maybe you'll be doing me a favor."

"No," Alex said, her tone icy. "This is on you, Michael. You're an asshole who deserves whatever happens to him when Trevor realizes what you did." She gave him a look that she hoped burned his very soul, if he had one left. "You're nothing but trash, and I can't..." She trailed off and shook her head, turning away from him. "I can't believe you would do such a thing."

"Whoa, what did Michael do now?" Trevor queried. Alex turned in time to see him stroll into the living room, and she glanced sideways at Michael.

Michael met her gaze evenly, and he didn't look at Trevor as he said, "What do you want?"

Trevor noticed this, and he came between the two of them, giving them both funny looks before he turned to Michael. "I'm your friend. I don't want anything, man." Michael snorted before walking over to the couch and sinking down onto it. Trevor followed his lead, saying "Come on, your company's good enough, right? Same as always."

"Yeah," Michael agreed, his tone suggesting he wasn't in the mood to talk to Trevor. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

Trevor studied the living room for a moment, giving Alex another look as he did so. She merely shook her head and backed up against the wall, folding her arms over her chest. Trevor turned back to Michael. "So! Family ain't back yet, huh?"

"Nope."

Trevor sighed. "She's a goddamn fool, man," he said sympathetically.

"Despite all the chaos of these last few weeks, I think I've finally figured it out," Michael mused, looking at him. Alex didn't know whether to be impressed or annoyed by the fact that he could cover up his feelings over their own conversation so quickly.

Trevor glanced up and met his gaze, and Michael lifted his shoulders. "I know, it sounds ridiculous," he sighed.

"No, actually, it does not sound ridiculous," Trevor told him. "Y'know? Because you, you're a killer."

Alex involuntarily winced, and she studied Trevor in confusion. Did he know?

What Trevor said next, however, shot down that idea immediately. "You are a man of action! You do not sit on couches, you take scores! You're back, man. We -" He waved his hands between the two of them. "- are back! Alright? All we gotta do is bust out Brad, and then we're golden, man!" He started to list why: "Franklin, he makes us multicultural, Lester makes it cyber, and Alex adds a little feminism. We're like modern America! We just get ourselves a gay friend – bam!"

"No, that's not it!" Michael argued. Trevor groaned and looked away from him. "I got money, it just makes you miserable. I wanna make movies."

Trevor grunted and leaned back against the couch. "Great, that's great… and uh… where exactly does this leave me in this second act of your life?"

"We're gonna do this last big job, and then we're gonna dissolve the partnership," Michael said calmly.

 _Legitimately this time, Mikey?_

Trevor glared at him. "This is not a game to me! It's a fuckin' way of life."

"I got a fuckin' family!"

"Yeah, well, I got nothin'!" Alex closed her eyes. "No one gives a fuck about me."

She opened her eyes to see that Michael was studying Trevor closely. "I do," he told him softly.

Alex couldn't stop the small scoff that came out of her mouth. Both looked at her, and she shook her head. "Sorry. I'm not here."

Michael continued to stare at her as Trevor stood up and pointed to him. "She's right. Fuck you. I saw your grave. I mourned you. And then it turns out that everything I fucking thought about you was a lie! Everything!" Michael looked up at him, and Trevor moved closer to his face with every new point. "You're not dead, and you're not a man!"

"Well, what the fuck are you?" Michael demanded, standing up.

"I'm your fucking nightmare!"

"Yeah, enough with your goddamn threats!"

The two of them glared at one another for a few moments until Trevor backed away from him. For a moment, Alex thought he was going to leave, but then he looked away from Michael and pointed at him one, twice, three times. "Let me… let me just ask you something. Alright?" Michael lowered himself back down onto the couch and looked up at him. "Something I've been, I've been thinking about."

 _Uh oh_.

"Up in North Yankton…" Alex saw Michael's eyes flash. "Exactly who was buried in your place?"

Michael leaned back against the couch with a thoughtful look on his face. Alex wanted to punch him. _Tell him, you piece of shit._

"I never gave it any thought."

 _Oh, you're so stupid!_ When was Michael going to learn he couldn't lie his way out of everything?

Trevor was shaking. "You know what I'm thinking?"

"I have no clue."

Trevor wasn't buying it. "You treacherous piece of shit!" he shouted, moving for the front door. "You're fuckin' dead." He turned around and stormed out of the living room. "You're fucking dead!"

Michael hesitated for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Alex studied him. "You should probably do something about that," she advised when he didn't move.

Michael let out a breath through his nose. "Trevor!" he called, standing up and going after him. "Hey, T!"

Alex followed him out of the house just in time to see Trevor drive off in Michael's car. "Fuck," Michael muttered, running too the garage. He pulled out in Alex's Mesa, and Alex held out her arms.

"The fuck are you doing?"

"I have to go after him, Alex," Michael responded through the window. "When I get back, we're all going to talk about this, I promise."

Alex let out a breath. She knew couldn't be angry with him, as much as she wanted to be. She cared about him too much. He had to go after Trevor and figure this out, and she wasn't going to stop him. She nodded. "Fine. Be careful, and don't do anything stupid."

"I made that mistake ten years ago," Michael replied, pulling out of the driveway and going after Trevor. Alex remained where she was on the front step for a moment, and then she retreated into the house with a shake of her head.

She pulled out her phone and called the first person she dialed, which was Lester for some odd reason. "Alex? What's going on?"

"Are you busy?" she queried. "I need to talk to you." She realized then that Lester was the one person who might understand what was going on without asking too many questions, and that was the reason she had called him.

"No, come over," Lester responded. "What's the matter? Where's Michael?"

 _Oh great. So Michael is just the obvious person for me to go too with problems, right?_

"He's… not available. That's what we're going to talk about."

There was a pause as Lester processed this. "Okay…"

"I'll be there soon, I have to get a cab."

"A cab? Don't you have a car? Alex, what the hell is going on?" Lester demanded, sounding more confused than she'd ever heard him.

"Just... don't move, alright? I'll be right there." Alex hung up the phone and put it in her pocket. She leaned against the wall for a second to get her bearings, swallowing back a swell of tears that had risen in her throat and behind her eyes. Why was she upset?

 _Everything was a lie. In a way, you've been hit just as hard as Trevor by all this._

Michael was her best friend, at least, she'd thought of him as one. And knowing that he'd had been willing to put his other best friend in the ground… it hurt. Really, really bad.

She shook her head and pushed her hair back. She needed to focus. If she didn't explain to Lester what was going on soon, he may suffer from sort of attack, and that wouldn't be good.

She let out a breath and went out the front door to do just that.

($)

"So, Michael and the FIB agent were supposed to kill Trevor, but the FIB agent killed Brad, instead." Lester's brow furrowed. "That's what you're telling me?"

"Yes," Alex responded, "and Trevor and Michael are on their way to North Yankton right now, and I'm afraid a showdown may be in order."

"From what you've said, it seems like Michael deserves whatever Trevor throws at him," Lester told her. "As much as I hate to say it."

"I know," Alex mumbled. "I think so too, Lest." She let out a breath and looked at him. "I - Is it wrong for me to feel like Michael betrayed me, too?"

Lester frowned. "Well, maybe just a little bit, but I can understand where you're coming from." He gazed at her closely. "Can you explain to me what made you figure this out?"

"Not really," Alex sighed with a shake of her head. "I mean, I've had… thoughts before this, but I don't know what made me finally snap and ask Michael for the truth. I just – Lester, have you ever looked at someone and you wanted to know why they do the things they do? Why they act a certain way?"

"No," Lester replied. "No, I'm not that paranoid." He paused and glanced around his room. "Yet." He shifted his gaze back to her. "Alex, tell me something, honestly. Do you… do you have feelings for Michael?"

The question made her stiffen. "What? What made you ask me that?"

"I watch a lot of porn, Alex."

"I didn't need to know that, nor do I understand why that has anything to do with anything."

"Well, you may not realize it, but porn does sometimes have a storyline," Lester explained. "You have that look about you."

"Look?" Alex questioned, crossing her arms. "Please, pray tell, what look are you talking about?"

"That sad, abandoned puppy look that the women in porn get when the man they have feelings for has sex with another porno girl with bigger boobs," Lester told her. "Or when the man leaves them for something else after they finish having sex."

"Alright, Lester…" Alex cleared her throat, prepared to explain why he was insane. "For one, porn is nothing like real life. B, Michael and I will never, under any circumstances be like that, and three, I don't have feelings for Michael."

Lester stared at her. "Liar."

"Excuse you."

"Alex, you're a worse liar than I am. That's why I do all my lying via the internet."

"Lester, I don't like Michael!" Alex shook her head.

"Alright, you keep telling yourself that," Lester responded, leaning back in his wheelchair.

She let out a huff. "Alright, let's just say that I _did_ like Michael," she said. "Hypothetically, of course. How would I be able to deal with this, then?" She cringed. "Or rather, how would a girl in a pornography deal with something like this?"

"She would go home, and wait for the man to realize he was wrong, and return to her," Lester responded after a small moment of silence. "In the end, Alex, they always come back, no matter what happened."

"Yeah," she muttered, sitting down on the floor behind him and putting her chin in her hand, "but are they usually going to a graveyard to deal with a problem between himself and a self-admitted psychopath?"

"No," Lester allowed. "Then again, pornographies are not real life."

"Sometimes, I don't think our lives are real life, either," Alex muttered.

They sat in silence for several long moments, until Lester cleared his throat. "You know, you're not exactly innocent of lying, either," he pointed out.

"I know." Alex covered her face with her hands. "I thought that it would be fine. Michael would have his secrets, I would have mine, and we would be even and not bother one another about it." She removed her hands from her face and slammed a fist against the floor. "Damn my curiosity! This is all Franklin's fault; he's the one that brought up the past yesterday."

"Don't blame Franklin for this," Lester said sternly. "You pushed Michael, and everything poured out. This is your fault more than anyone's."

"No, it's _Michael's_ fault more than anyone's," Alex argued hotly. "He's the one who tried to have Trevor killed ten years ago and then ran away when it didn't work out like it was supposed too."

Lester glanced at her from over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. "Do we really want to start pointing fingers?"

Alex glared up at him for a moment and then she let out a breath and lowered her eyes to the floor. "No," she mumbled. "Not at all. I just... I want them both to come home safe, and, hopefully, still pals." She raised her head and looked at Lester. "Do you think that possible?"

The look on Lester's face told her his answer, and Alex rubbed her hand over her face.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I don't think so, either."

* * *

 **Also, I didn't edit this chapter like I usually edit chapters. I kind of just skim-read it because I directed Bury the Hatchet as a scene in theatre class, and I basically know the lines like I know the back of my hand.**

 **Except, I know them better, because I don't really look at the back of my hand.**

 **Question for today: What's your favorite thing to do?**


	20. Severing Ties

**Ughhhhh Mondays... At least I can do something I love on Monday, which is talk to you guys! Hi!**

 **awolfnamedThaliaJackson: Reading FanFiction used to be one of my favorite things too. And then I started to write them... Now it's more of a bane to my existence.**

 **phannyboi13: Yeah, I know what the orange thing is now. My brother read the chapter, and he was like, "Uhm, the "orange thing"? It's an Entity. I just didn't want to go and change it.  
As for watching other people play GTA V, it bothers me. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I play a certain way, and if the person I'm watching doesn't play that way, it bothers the absolute hell out of me. **

**All right, onto the chapter!**

* * *

"Red! What's crackin'?" Franklin queried as Alex walked to where was washing his Buffalo. She'd spent a sleepless night in Michael's empty house, worrying about Michael, who had probably reached North Yankton sometime around midnight and was facing off with Trevor, whom she was also worrying about.

"Nothin'," she responded absently. "I'm just… something's on my mind, is all."

"You wanna talk about it?" Franklin asked, immediately stopping in his cleaning and looking at her.

"I already tried doing that," Alex sighed.

"With Michael?"

 _Dammit, not you too._

Alex shook her head. "It's about Michael. And Trevor. I talked to Lester."

"You talked to Lester instead of me?" Franklin looked hurt. "Damn, Red. This must be some heavy ass stuff. Does it have to do with before?"

She nodded. "I - I found something out that may or may not have been a bad thing to find out, and it…" She trailed off and let out a breath. "I don't really want to talk about it, Frankie."

"Sure," he said. "If you do, though, I'm here." His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket before answering it. "What's crackin'?" he asked the person on the other end.

Alex could hear Lamar's voice. "Eh, I jacked the last ride on that list. Ya ready to go?"

"Shit, I'm ready to get paid, nigga," Franklin answered.

"Crazy man's got the other ones. Come meet me by Glass Heroes in Strawberry, so we can do the damn thing."

Alex stiffened as Franklin said, "I'm on my way," and hung up the phone. He glanced in her direction, saw the look on her face, and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Did he say Trevor had the other cars?" Alex asked, her voice hoarse.

Franklin nodded slowly. "Yeah… Red?"

Alex's vision was getting blurry. She couldn't see straight, and she could feel her breathing getting rough. "Alex!" Franklin hurried over to her and caught her before she fainted. "Alex - come on, Red. What's goin' on?"

"He killed him," she whispered just as her vision went black.

The weird dreams she experienced while she was out were full of Trevor and Michael. She could see them in North Yankton, facing down one another, both holding guns. Trevor fired, killed Michael, and put him where he belonged; in his grave, right on top of Brad.

She woke up more than once, but could never get a focus on her surroundings, and found herself falling back into her dreams with a groan each time.

When she finally woke up fully, she found herself looking up at Lamar. "Hey, Red," he greeted with a small grin. "Long time no see."

Alex managed a grin and placed a hand over her eyes. "Good to see you too."

"How're you feelin'?" Lamar queried.

"Like shit, if I had to be honest," Alex responded, sliding her hand down her face. She struggled to sit up. "What happened?"

"Frank said he had to go do something, so he asked me to stay with you," Lamar explained, pushing on her shoulders to keep her down. "You got a nice house, Red."

Alex blinked and moved him out of the way to see where she was. She saw the TV screen, and she realized that she was in Michael's house, on the couch.

"Franklin…" She let out a breath and closed her eyes. "I can't believe he brought me here."

"He didn't," Lamar said. She opened one eye, and Lamar pointed to himself. "You was in Frank's house while we was up in Paleto Bay. Then Frank called me and told me about his thing, and asked me to bring you here instead."

"I appreciate that, Lamar," Alex told him. "Thank you." She opened both eyes and grunted. "Did Franklin say what he was doing?"

"Nope," Lamar answered. "I didn't ask, either. Sorry."

"It's cool," Alex said, waving her hand. She looked up at him. "How've you been?"

"Ah, y'know how it is, Red," he said dismissively. "Hood shit."

"I can safely say I'm glad I don't really know how "hood shit" is anymore," Alex informed him with a dry chuckle.

"Hood shit never changes," Lamar said. "The only thing that changes is the person gunning for yo' ass."

"Who is it this week, L?"

"Pro'lly the Ballas," Lamar answered after thinking about it for a moment. "But, shit, they always be gunning fo' my ass." He looked at her with a lifted eyebrow. "Who's after yours, Red?"

"Hmm..." Alex considered the question. Who wanted her dead? "If I have to pick, maybe the FIB. Or those guys back in Liberty City. They can hold a grudge."

Lamar shook his head. "Any drug dealer can hold a grudge. It just depends on what kinda drug they on." He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the front door, and Alex let out a sigh.

"Listen, if you wanna head out you can. I'm sure you have something important to be doing, right?"

"I mean, sure, but if you need me to stay, shit, I will," Lamar responded, turning back to her.

"Nah, you go do your thing," Alex said. "I'll be fine."

"Alright, Red," Lamar answered. He stood up. "I'm sure Frank'll show up soon enough," he told her. "I'll see you later."

"Bye, L," Alex called after him as he walked out of the living room. She heard the front door open and then close, and she waited for his car to rumble to life and disappear down the street before she sat up with a small moan. Her head was pounding something fierce, and she decided she need a shot of some very strong alcohol.

She staggered to her feet and wandered into the kitchen, where there was a bottle of whiskey and an empty glass seeming to be waiting for her on the counter. She poured herself a shot and swallowed it completely, wincing as the alcohol burned her throat.

That's when she heard another car outside the house. Assuming it was Franklin, she put the bottle down and went to the front door. She pulled it open and almost fainted again at what she saw outside the gate. Michael was climbing out of a sports car that Franklin had been driving, wearing a white tank top and some gray slacks.

Alex let out a noise she was pretty positive she'd never made before and ran out of the house towards him. Michael had turned at her sound, and he grinned faintly as she rushed towards him to tackle him in a hug. He allowed her to hug him, but not hard. "Easy," he said, voice quiet. "I just been through hell, Al. I'm not ready for your attack yet."

"I can't believe you're alive," she whispered, pressing her face into his chest.

"You aren't the only one," he responded.

She let him go hesitantly, and he turned to Franklin. "Thanks again, Franklin. I really appreciate it." Alex studied him. He was bruised and bleeding from a cut on his head. There were a few marks on his arms, too, and she swore they were from bullets.

"What the hell happened to you?" she asked.

"Fucking Trevor," Michael muttered. "What else? We met up in North Yankton, he found out the truth, we pulled out our guns. Before we could do anything, his Chinese buddies showed up and started a fire fight of their own. I barely made it out alive, but then they captured me, thinking I was Trevor's boyfriend." He shook his head. "Franklin saved me."

"S'cool, homie," Franklin said. "Don't worry about it."

"We'll see you soon?" Michael asked him.

"Yeah, sure," he answered, turning and starting to walk away towards the car they'd drive up in.

"Hey," Michael called. Franklin stopped. "You sure you don't want to come in?"

"What? Your big empty-ass house? Dog, I'm depressed enough already," Franklin responded, turning around to face him.

"Alright," Michael said. "Well, listen, thanks."

"Look man, before you go," Franklin said, stopping Michael and Alex from going to the house. "What the fuck happened up there?"

"I said, Trevor went crazy," Michael replied, "tried to kill me. I got jumped by the Chinese."

"Man, before all that," Franklin told him, waving his hand. He started to count on his fingers. "I'm talking about the Feds, Trevor, this guy Brad, man."

"I know what you meant," Michael said, his tone harsh.

Alex winced. She didn't want to know if Michael was going to continue to lie, even with her standing right there, or if the truth was finally going to come out. She also didn't want to know how Franklin was going to react.

Michael moved closer to Franklin, who studied him without blinking. "Look, I made a judgement call," Michael said. "I didn't know if it was the right one. I did what thought I had to do." Franklin shook his head, turning away from him. Michael went on, following him towards the street. "I had a young family, Franklin. I was running with a crew of crazy motherfuckers with nothing to lose. I saw an out, a future for me, for my family. I took it."

Franklin turned back to look at him, an eyebrow arched. "You took it? Man, you've burned every motherfucker you've ever known."

"It was that or die!" Michael exclaimed. Franklin scoffed, and Michael glanced over his shoulder towards Alex. She diverted her gaze and heard him sigh. Glancing towards them, she saw he had turned back to Franklin. "Look, I know it sounds cold. I don't expect you to understand it, not yet. But you will, one day, when you have ties of your own."

"Ties, Michael?" Alex asked softly. They both turned to look at her, and she held out her arms. "Do the ties to us not count?"

"Do you think the ties between us are more important than the ones between a family?" Michael questioned.

"I thought _we_ were a family," Alex muttered. She bowed her head. "Maybe I was wrong."

There was a long silence.

"Look," Michael's voice drew her attention back to the scene in front of her, "you wake up one day and your legs, they just give, and you just can't run anymore."

Franklin's eyes met hers from over Michael's shoulder. Alex merely shrugged, not knowing what to say, and Franklin shook his head, looking back at Michael. "Alright man, look, you watch your back, alright? When Trevor finds out you still alive, I don't know what the fuck he gonna do."

"Don't worry about Trevor," Michael responded. "He not gonna get near me." Franklin raised his hands and started to walk off. "Hey, you watch your back, you hear me?"

Franklin stopped and looked at him. "It ain't me he's coming for. We straight, it's you, dog. It's you."

"I'm just saying," Michael said.

Franklin turned away with a shake of his head and climbed into the car, pulling away from the curb and up the street. Alex and Michael were left alone.

Michael sighed and turned to look at her. Alex tried to grin, but failed miserably. "At least Trevor doesn't know you're back yet," she managed.

Michael snorted. "Yet." He started towards the house, moving slower than a man twice his age would move. Alex started to help him, but he pushed her away with a shake of his head. "You need to stay away from me, Al," he told her firmly. "You're the only one T isn't pissed off at. Best to keep it that way."

Alex blinked at him. She didn't know what to say. Michael didn't give her a chance to say anything, however. He continued on into the house. Alex remained standing until the front door shut behind him, and then allowed her knees to cave, and she fell to the concrete, tears in her eyes.

She didn't have anywhere to go, she realized. She'd been staying at Michael's place, and he was right; Trevor was angry with Michael, and he would get jealous if she stayed with Franklin. If she wanted to remain on Trevor's good side, she had to stay away from them both. Her only option was the strip club, or…

She shook that thought away instantly. There was no way. She refused to even fathom the option. She'd moved out a long time ago; there was no way she was going to go crawling back to him now. She doubted he would even let her stay with him, especially after everything that had happened.

She glanced up at the sky. It was beginning to grow heavy with dark gray clouds, promising rain. A lot of it. She couldn't tell where the sun was, if it was even out.

She released a breath and climbed to her feet, using the fence for leverage. When she was standing again, she waved her hand to a taxi that was passing by. It pulled up short beside the curb, and she waddled over to it, her legs still shaking. With a heavy sigh, and one last mournful glance towards Michael's house, she pulled open the door of the cab and stumbled into the backseat.

"Where too?" the driver asked, glancing at her in the rear view mirror.

Rain began to patter the windshield and the side windows. Alex brushed red hair out of her eyes and muttered, "Vespucci Beach."

* * *

 **Ohhhhhhhmygooooodddd.**

 **Where in the possible fuck could Alex be going? Tune in Friday to find out!**

 **I would be a terrible TV show host.**

 **Question for Today: What do you do to get out of the Monday blues?**


	21. Putting Them Back Together (Kind Of)

**Whaa-? A chapter that's longer than 2000 words? Ohmahgo-**

 **Sorry. I'm a little caffeinated right now. Hah!**

 **awolfnamedThaliaJackson: Hah! I listen to music to get out of everyday blues. And because I like to listen to music. I listen to music even when I don't have to listen to music. That's how much music I listen to. Music.**

 **I need to take a nap.**

* * *

"This is it," she said once they'd reached the apartment building where Trevor had been staying with Wade's cousin. The cab pulled up in front of it, and she handed the driver some cash before climbing out and letting out a breath as she gazed at the stairs before her.

Dave Norton was her half-brother. One look at them, and you'd never know it, considering he was tall and she was short, his hair was brown and hers was dark red. But, if you took a closer look, you'd see the resemblance right away. They had similar facial structures, and their eyes were exactly the same.

She'd lived with him in North Yankton for a while after she'd dropped out of high school. In fact, they'd had a pretty good life going, one she'd never thought she'd get from living with the half-brother, who'd resented her their whole life previous. Unfortunately, when she'd found out what Dave had done involving Michael and Trevor and Brad just to get higher up in his career, it had made her very angry, and she'd left to go to Liberty City and be on her own.

Dave had always been the grumpy older brother, very different from the ones that Alex read about in books. He didn't protect her whatsoever, and had acted like she didn't exist when the "family" had gone out together to eat and what not. In fact, Alex had one very solid memory about when they'd gone to an amusement park, and their father had left them on their own to ride a roller coaster. Dave had walked away without her, and Alex, who had been ten at the time, had been stranded alone, crying for her daddy.

At least Dad had grounded Davey for that.

For reasons she'd never know, Dave had taken her in after she'd dropped out. Maybe it was because he wasn't doing so well in his job, and he needed the extra money she brought in from playing her violin and her job at the movie rental store. At least, he had needed the extra money until he'd "killed" the villainous Michael Townley.

Strange how everything came around full circle. Here she was, standing outside his apartment, which was actually right across the way from where Floyd had lived. She could have been in Floyd's apartment with Trevor while Dave was in his. It was weird to think about.

Letting out a sigh, Alex jogged up the stairs towards the apartments, and was about to knock on the one that wasn't Floyd's when the door opened and Elder Price came out, grinning to himself.

"Oh!" he said when he recognized her. "Hello again!"

"Hi, Elder Price," she greeted, managing a smile for him. "Good to see you took my advice. Any luck?"

"A lot," he responded happily. "You were right."

"Yes, I had a feeling I would be."

"Well, got to go!" he said. "God loves Mormons, and he wants some more." He started to walk past her down the stairs, and she hesitated for a moment.

"Hey, Elder," she said just before he finished going down the stairs. He looked up at her, and she smiled again, for real this time. "Thank you."

"For what, ma'am?" he asked, brow furrowing.

"Just… Thank you." He didn't need to know he'd probably saved her from death three or so weeks earlier.

The Mormon gazed at her with a frown for a moment longer before he merely smiled again and nodded. "You're very welcome. Have a blessed day." With that, he continued down the stairs, hopping onto his bike and riding off. Alex was so busy watching him go that she didn't hear the door to Dave's apartment opening behind her.

"Alex?" her half-brother asked, drawing her attention.

She rotated around and saw he was standing in the doorway, arms crossed. She bowed her head, and Dave let out a long sigh before moving away from the entrance. "Get in."

She silently walked through the door and leaned against the wall opposite it as Dave shut the door and turned around to face her. His arms crossed over his chest, similar to the way Dad's had done when he was disappointed or tired. "What are you doing here?"

"I didn't have anywhere else to go," she told him. "Michael warned me to stay on Trevor's good side, Franklin is upset, and Trevor… he lives in a strip club, Davey. You were my only choice."

Her half-brother shook his head and kept his eyes trained on the floor. "I thought we would never see each other again when you left the apartment in North Yankton," he said after a moment of silence. "Then you turned up with Michael at the Observatory, and I knew why mom was always so uptight about fate." He chuckled hoarsely. "What do you want?"

"A place to stay," she replied. "That's all. At least until things between Michael and Trevor cool down enough for me to go back to living with Michael."

Dave lifted his eyes to meet hers, and she saw, not for the first time since meeting him again, that they were a mirror image of her own. He blinked and gestured towards one of the doors. "You can stay. That's your room."

Alex managed a slight smile. "Thank you, Davey."

She started to make her way towards it, but Dave called her to a stop. She did, and turned to look at him. "How'd you meet Michael anyway, little sister?" he asked.

She allowed another grin. "How about you order a pizza and I'll tell you about it?"

About thirty minutes later, she was sitting at Dave's counter, waiting for him to give her a piece of pizza. When he did, and he took his own position across from her, she sighed, wondering where she was supposed to begin.

"Well, a mutual friend of mine and Franklin's convinced me to come to Los Santos. When I got here, I met Trevor basically right after I got off the plane," she started. Deciding it was best to leave out as much information about her working for TPI as possible, she skipped to when she'd gotten a job at the car dealership. "Michael's son bought a car from there, and Franklin went to repo it. I was there when Michael and Franklin drove through the front window…"

Dave didn't ask for an explanation as to why they drove through the window. Alex was glad, because she didn't really want to give one.

"Anyhow, Michael seemed like an influential guy, and I'd lost my job at the dealership because I sort of let him beat up the owner without really trying to stop him, so I figured, "Hey, this guy can get me a better job." I didn't think that job would consist of not getting paid." She gave Dave a pointed look as she said this.

"When did you realize Michael was the guy from North Yankton?" Dave queried.

"Well, when Trevor found out he was still alive," Alex answered, "but I didn't know for sure until Michael and I met you at the Observatory." She fiddled around with the pizza on her plate, for some reason not as hungry as she'd thought she was. "I don't know why, but Michael and I…" She paused a moment, trying to find the words.

"There was a connection between us, Davey," she said at last. "I don't know why or how, but it… our friendship just… escalated within a week or two. There were secrets, definitely, but we didn't care. He didn't ask about my past, and I didn't ask about his. I think there was a sort of mutual understanding we didn't like to talk about them."

Dave gave her a funny look. "I don't think having a bad home life and being a notorious criminal are the same thing, Alex."

Alex waved that off with one hand. "It doesn't matter what the past was; we both don't talk about it, and there was a sort of bond formed between us because of it." She smiled to herself. "I mean, I think he's my best friend... and I mean it this time. We clicked. He understands. He's like..." She trailed off. He was Michael. Why did she need to give him a label?

Dave didn't press further about Michael, and instead opened a beer for her and slid it across the counter. Alex caught it and took a swig while he asked, "Where did you go? After you left North Yankton, I mean."

"Liberty City," Alex told him. "I moved there, played my violin on street corners, like I did when I lived with you." She caught him grinning as soon as she said the word violin, and she lifted an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"I just think it's great you kept playing," Dave replied. "You were good, Alex. You could have done something with that, became a teacher or something."

Alex scoffed despite how sincere he sounded. "But I dropped out, right?"

Dave nodded sadly. "You dropped out," he agreed.

Alex pursed her lips and took another swig of beer. "I wouldn't mind starting over," she said after a moment. Dave gave her a look, and she shrugged one shoulder. "I know I can't, but it would be nice to be able to say I did something, y'know?"

Dave chose not to respond. Alex appreciated the gesture; Dave was very successful, even if the business he worked for was corrupt, and if he was, as Michael said Steve had put it, "living off past glories".

There was a silence between them, one that lasted several moments. Finally, however Davey broke it. "You're working with them." It wasn't a question.

Alex merely raised an eyebrow. "Yes. You knew that already, though."

Dave gave her a look. "You know that these things they do, they're not good."

"How much worse are they from the things you do?" she retorted sharply. "Especially when most of the things they do are things _you_ order them to do?"

From the corner of her eye, she saw Dave stalk off a few paces, arms crossed. He came back after a moment and looked at her. "Alex, listen to me." She didn't look at him. Her half-brother sighed in exasperation. "Please listen. I care about you, little sister, whether it seems that way or not. I just want you to be safe."

"I am safe, David," she replied, lifting her head. "All three of them make sure of that." She shook her head. "Michael wouldn't let me do this stuff with him unless he thought I could handle it."

"What does Michael have to do with this?" Dave demanded.

"Everything!" Alex shouted. She stood up, knocking down the stool she was sitting on as she did so. "He has to do with everything." As she said it, she realized it was the truth. Michael did have to do with everything. Hell, he _was_ everything.

Alex let out a breath to calm down and braced her hands on the counter-top. "Michael… He may not seem like it, but he actually cares a lot, Dave," she told her half-brother. "He… he takes care of me, and I think I kind of take care of him, too, in a weird, off-kilter sort of way. I don't think… I don't think I'd be here right now if it weren't for Michael."

Even as she said it, she knew it was true. Sure, the situation they were in wasn't great, but where would she be if she hadn't wanted to improve her skills to impress him? Probably lying in a gutter somewhere, dead. Why hadn't she realized that he'd been the one to keep her going before, when she'd needed too? When Michael had needed her too? And… she'd gone without thanking him for anything for how long, now?

No wonder Michael didn't want her in his house.

Dave gazed at her closely for a moment, but didn't say anything, so Alex continued, her voice a murmur. "Michael takes care of me. So does Trevor, and Franklin. They've accepted me into their little band even though they really had no reason to at all. Can't you just... let it be?"

Dave shook his head. "Not when they're letting you risk your life in the process."

Alex's humbled thoughts immediately turned to anger. She didn't know if she'd picked this trait up from Trevor, or Michael. "Who says they're letting me? Maybe I'm helping against their wills."

David continued to look at her with Dad's eyes. "Alex, you know what Steve Haines wants to do, don't you?" he asked at last. When Alex furrowed her brow in confusion, Dave sighed. "I don't want to tell you. You might go and kill Steve here and now, and I need him."

"Why? Is he your gay lover, Davey?" Alex asked sarcastically.

Dave narrowed his eyes but ignored this. Instead, he said, "What Haines decides to do will depend on the events that unfold in a few days." He gave her a pointed look. "Just stay away from Trevor while you're living under my roof."

"No," Alex disagreed immediately. Dave glared at her, and she shook her head. "Trevor is my friend, Davey. I need to stay on his good side, and make sure he doesn't find out Michael is alive."

"And if he does and finds out you lied?" David asked her. "What then? Will you allow him to flay the skin off of your hands one finger at a time? Will you let him pull strands of hair from your head just to see you wince?"

Alex gaped at him. "What do you think Trevor is?"

"An uncontrollable monster who doesn't mind killing even his closest friends," Dave answered immediately. "He is a problem we need to deal with."

"I can't believe you would even say that," Alex exclaimed. She backed away from him. "Trevor is my friend. He may be nuts, but he's loyal. He won't do anything. Do you know how many times he could have killed Michael and he didn't? It's because he knows Michael may very possibly be one of his only friends. Trevor thinks the only way to keep people close to him is through intimidation and fear."

"He's a loose cannon," Dave said.

"So am I," Alex responded. Dave didn't say anything, and it suddenly dawned on her. She shook her head. "No. You can't let him."

"Alex," Dave began, but she furiously shook her head again, refusing to listen.

"It can't happen! I won't let it!"

Without waiting for him to say anything, Alex turned and sprinted from the apartment. She heard Dave calling after her, but she was already running down the stairs and out to the street.

She scrambled into the taxi she hailed and told the driver to drive away just as Dave came out of the apartment. She saw her half-brother stop dead as her taxi pulled away and close his eyes before running his hand through his hair.

Breathing heavily from the speed she'd run, she directed the taxi driver to take her to Franklin's. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the seat. Why would Steve Haines want to kill Trevor?

($)

She paid the driver of the cab and climbed out of the vehicle. She wanted to be angry with Michael for losing her Mesa, but she knew she couldn't be, especially when he'd been abducted by Chinese and her realization about how much she owed him.

In fact, she probably owed _him_ a car, not the other way around.

She'd taken a cab to Franklin's house, hoping he would be able to provide some kind of comfort after what had just happened at Dave's apartment. She knew that she needed to tell someone what Steve Haines was planning, and had decided Franklin was the best bet. Sighing, she reached his front door and knocked on it.

Franklin answered the door almost instantly, and when he saw how frazzled she was, hurried her into the house. Before he asked her anything, he had the decency of leading her to the couch and pouring her a glass of whiskey, which she drank in one gulp. As she waited for the burn to go away, Franklin sat down next to her.

"What's goin' on?" he questioned.

Alex closed her eyes. "Steve Haines wants Trevor dead."

Franklin didn't respond. She opened her eyes and saw that he was gaping at her. "How do you know?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"A very, very long story the even Michael doesn't know the entirety of," she replied. "It doesn't matter, Frankie. What matters is that Haines wants Trevor dead, and we need to make sure it doesn't happen."

Franklin was silent for a long moment. When he finally responded, it was the last thing Alex wanted to hear. "Red, I don't know what you expect us to do. The only guy who can help us at all is Michael, an' right now, he and T ain't exactly batting for the same team."

She knew he was right. There was no way for them to help Trevor on their own. The only thing they could do was wait and see how everything played out.

Franklin was studying her. "You gonna tell me how you know 'bout this?"

Alex let out a breath. "Dave Norton... he's my half-brother. I went to his apartment because Mikey kicked me out of his house, and we got into a fight. He kind of let it slip that Haines plans on getting rid of Trevor." She glanced at Franklin to judge his reaction. He didn't look surprised, just confused.

"You and Dave are related?" he asked her. She nodded. "You don't really look alike. I mean, Dave's tall and you're kind of short."

"Yeah. That's why I said half-brother, Franklin," Alex replied. She bowed her head and rubbed her temples. This was not a good day. "Now I need to find another place to stay."

"Why don't you go stay with T? I know you don't wanna stay here..." Franklin trailed off and gazed around his home. Alex did the same, and lifted an eyebrow. It wasn't hard to see that a bachelor lived here.

"It isn't about how it looks, Frankie," she told him, standing. "It's about Trevor. He's pissed enough already, and I don't want him pissed at me for choosing to stay with you instead of him. He might go and do something crazy that'll confirm Haines's idea that he's a psychopath."

She started walking towards the door, but Franklin grabbed her wrist before she could reach it. She tried to pull away from him, but he was too strong for her. "What?" she asked, glancing back at him.

"Maybe it ain't such a bad thing that Steve Haines wants Trevor gone," Franklin murmured. Alex's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "Think about it, Red. Trevor's insane. He won't think twice about anything, and one day, that's gonna get him killed. He's not a safe person to be around."

"You and Michael are robbers," Alex growled, yanking her wrist from his hand. "Does that mean you guys are dangerous, too?"

"Alex, think about this for a second," Franklin pleaded. She merely glared at him, and he held out his hands. "Trevor is crazy. You know he is, too. You've seen it firsthand. Do you honestly think he deserves to have us risk our necks to save him?"

Alex blinked at him. "Yes," she said, "I do. That's what families do for one another, Franklin." She walked away, heading for the door. "Maybe I was right before. We aren't a real family."

She shut the door to his house and walked to the curb, glancing up and down the street for a cab.

When one didn't appear, Alex sat down heavily and put her head in her hands. She heard the door open behind and then Franklin sat down beside her.

"Alex," he began, "I'm sorry 'bout that. I shouldn't even think about lettin' Steve Haines kill Trevor. You're right, though. We ain't a really family. If we was, it would be a pretty fucked up one."

Alex allowed herself to laugh. She lifted her head and studied Franklin. He had changed out of his bloody clothes and was wearing basketball shorts and a tank top. Her eyes drifted upwards and met his. Within that short second, she saw that Franklin was on her side, no matter what else happened, and she gave him a grin to let him know she was grateful.

Franklin stood up, and Alex was about to do the same when someone honked their horn right in front of them. They had been so wrapped up in one another they hadn't noticed Trevor pull up in front of the house.

"If you two are done," he called, "I would like to talk to my protégé."

Alex rolled her eyes and gave Franklin one more look before she hurried to get into Trevor's truck. He drove away immediately, leaving Franklin in the dust. As soon as they were out of sight of Franklin's house, Trevor pulled off to the side of the road and turned to face her.

Alex stared forward, though she felt her cheeks getting very red. She knew that she was done when Trevor asked, "Did you have sex?"

"No!" she exclaimed hotly. Her cheeks were on fire.

"Are you hooking up?"

"No!"

"You're using condoms, right?"

"Trevor!" Alex cried, covering her face with her hands.

He sounded genuinely concerned. "I don't want you getting pregnant. How are you going to run TPI if you have a kid?"

"Okay, Trevor?" Alex looked at him full on, making sure to meet his eyes with hers. "Franklin and I are not having sex."

"But you're kissing?" Trevor queried, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, A. If you're going to go to third base, you may as well run all the way home."

"T!"

"What? I'm trying to help you."

"We didn't even kiss!" Alex said, turning forward again. "Where the hell do you get these crazy ideas? I'm like... fifteen years older than Franklin."

She could feel Trevor scrutinizing her. "You know where Michael is, don't you?"

That caught her off guard. She feigned surprise, glancing at him with furrowed brows. "No, he hasn't come home. Do you know where he is?"

Trevor didn't say anything. He merely continued to look at her. After a moment, he said, "Alex, where is Michael?"

"I don't know!" she responded. Her lip quivered, thankfully. "I'm worried about him. What happened in North Yankton, T?"

That was enough to stop him from asking questions. He shook his head and faced forward, starting the truck and pulling onto the street again. Alex already knew what had happened, but she knew she couldn't let the conversation die down, so she persisted. "What happened in North Yankton?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Trevor responded without looking at her.

"Trevor, if it has anything to do with Michael, it concerns me," Alex told him. That sent a cold look in her direction. She ignored it. "What happened?"

Trevor didn't respond. Alex shook her head. "Stop the car."

"Why?" Trevor growled.

"You know why," Alex answered. "Stop the car, T."

Instead, he merely pulled off again, several horns blaring at him as he did so, and he parked in an empty parking lot. Alex started to climb out of the truck, but Trevor grabbed the back of her shirt before she could. Alex tried to jerk from his grasp, but it merely tightened.

"Stop trying to get away," he said. "I'm gonna explain."

He let go of her shirt and Alex leaned back against her seat, turning her head to look at him. Trevor scratched at the beard he'd been growing out and sighed. "I'm going to guess that you already know what happened the first time," he began, looking at her.

"Yeah," she answered. "Michael pretended to get killed and you ran off. Brad was put in Mikey's grave." She left out the part about Michael's ultimate goal being to kill Trevor, which had failed. If Trevor knew about that part, she wasn't going to bring it up to remind him.

Trevor nodded. "I didn't know about that last part, so when I heard, it pushed me over the very thin line I had for Michael and his bullshit. I flew to North Yankton to see for myself, and Michael followed, lying through his teeth the whole time. He was still lying as I dug up his - Brad's - grave. And that... that was it, princess. I couldn't stand the lies anymore."

"So what then?" Alex asked. When Trevor didn't say anything, she used her performance skills to bring tears to her eyes and she covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh my God."

"I didn't kill him, Alex," Trevor said quickly, "though he might be dead now. A couple of those Chinese fuckers showed up in vans and started a fire fight. I ran the hell out of there, leaving Mikey behind to deal with it. I don't know what happened to him after that."

Alex started sobbing, quite convincingly, and Trevor reached over to comfort her. "Don't touch me," Alex managed, hoping beyond hope that she sounded distraught. She slid out of the truck and ran away, holding back her laughter until she was around the corner of the parking lot.

She collapsed against the wall and wiped tears, fake and from laughter, from her eyes. "Holy shit," she coughed. "That was perfect."

She couldn't believe the day she'd been having. Discovering that she could trick even _Trevor_ with her acting? She was very, very proud of herself. And yet, there was still something nagging at her, something that had to do with what she and Lester had been taking about.

Perhaps she needed to talk to the person on her mind.

She shook her head and let out a breath, doing her best to regain herself before she called him. When she did, she pulled out her phone and dialed his number. He answered on the second ring, like he usually did.

"Al?"

"Hey, Mikey," she greeted, a small giggle involuntarily escaping her lips.

"Listen, I know I was a bit short with you earlier," he continued, thankfully not noticing her chortles. "I'm sorry about that. I realized that it was a stupid reason to make you leave. Trevor won't know I'm here, because if he wants to see you, he'll call first, right?"

"Yeah," she said, clearing her throat to stop her laughter. "Although, you didn't have to explain it to me. Your apology was enough."

"Oh, okay. Good," he responded. There was a slight pause, and then he said, "You wanna come home?"

Alex smiled. "Yeah, I do."

* * *

 **Heheheheheh. Things are starting to come to fruition.**

 **I don't think that's the correct term in this case whatsoever.**

 **Oh well.**

 **Question for Today: Since we're on the topic of music, does anyone have a favorite artist or band or song? For me, I don't have a favorite anything, though there are songs on my phone that I never skip no matter what.**

 **Unless I'm looking for a specific song. In which case, I skip every song until I get to it because I'm too damn lazy to just play it manually.**

 **Did anyone see that comin', by the way? Meaning that Dave and Alex are half-siblings? If so, good on ya! If not, my goal was achieved!**

 **I'll see y'all on Monday. Toodleoo. :]**


	22. It Comes to Fruition

**I'm in love with the dentist.**

 **And I'm not afraid to admit it.**

 **If you don't know who the dentist is, good job, because he will ruin your fucking life.**

 **cheifcloud: Listen man, you're such a nice person. Really. Thank you so much for that. I appreciate you immensely, and I'm glad you're enjoying the Fic.**

 **awolfnamedThaliaJackson: I've never heard of R5. Maybe I'll look into 'em when I get some free time. Thank you.**

 **Okay, enough of this. You're not here for the talking to the readers; you're here for the Fiction, and GOD DAMMIT I'M HERE FOR THE FICTION TOO.**

 **Let's see how many people want to kill me after this one!**

* * *

Alex stepped through the front door of Michael's house, expecting a greeting, but she didn't get one.

"Mikey?" she called.

"Up here!" he answered from up the stairs. Alex jogged up to the top step and stopped dead as Michael came out of the bathroom, dressed in one of his finest suits. He looked shaggy, hair long and stubble on his cheeks and chin and around his mouth.

And it was the most attractive thing she'd ever seen.

She stood there dumbly, gaping, and Michael lifted an eyebrow. "You alright?"

She blinked once, and the light that had radiated around him for a brief moment disappeared, and he was just Michael again. She grinned sheepishly and hugged herself.

"I didn't expect you to be so fancy," she admitted. "I'd assumed you'd sleep for like 12 hours, eat a lot of food, and then sleep some more."

Michael shook his head and brushed past her to get down the stairs. "Got to get back to work. Solomon must be wondering where the fuck I am."

"Oh." Alex was crestfallen. She'd hoped he'd want to do something with her.

Michael glanced at her as she followed him towards the garage. "You coming with me?"

That made her perk up a bit. "Can I?"

Michael shrugged. "I don't see why not." He opened the garage door and clicked the button that raised the outdoor one. His car waited for him in the garage; Trevor must have brought it back when Alex had been out cold, Lamar watching over her.

If Michael noticed this, he didn't say anything; instead, he tossed her the keys. "You drive," he said. "Don't know if I trust myself enough yet."

Alex nodded in understanding and slid into the driver's seat, starting up the car.

Michael sat down with a groan and shut his door. Alex smirked at him as she pulled out of the garage and down the driveway, passing through the gate and onto the road.

"You feeling alright, old man?" she asked.

He laughed dryly. "Fuck you. You try hanging by your ankles and waiting for your protégé to come through the meat factory you're in to save your ass, all while watching a big, dangerous looking hacker thing coming closer and closer."

She stopped smiling and focused on the road. "Yeah, sorry."

Michael surprised her by reaching over and patting her leg. "It's not your fault, Al," he told her. "It's mine."

That was even more surprising. "Not Trevor's?" she queried, giving him a sideways look.

Michael didn't respond, and she chose not to push for one. Instead, she drove into the movie lot, only to find a scene of Solomon Richards getting beat on by two of whom Alex assumed to be his employees.

"Hey!" Michael shouted. He clambered out of the vehicle before Alex had even stopped it completely, and went running after the two men, who raced off as soon as they saw Michael's car pull into the lot.

"Michael!" Alex yelled, but he'd already hopped in a car and was driving after them. She sighed and hurried over to help Solomon. He coughed a few times but waved her off.

"I'm fine," he said. "Been through worse."

All the same, he allowed her to accompany him to his office, and help him into a chair. After he'd swallowed a shot of liquor, he finally looked at her.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Michael's..." She trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Paramour?" Solomon asked.

 _Pfft, I wish. Wait, what_? Alex shook that thought away, saying, "No. I'm just a friend."

Solomon didn't look convinced, but he didn't say anything. "I always wanted a paramour," he sighed. "And yet, I love my wife, so…"

Alex's phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and saw that it was Trevor. She ignored the call and slid the phone into her pocket once more. She had to keep up the upset act for a while, so it seemed like she was trying to find Michael and avoiding Trevor in the process. She should probably tell Michael what she was doing, too.

Unless... why didn't Trevor already know Michael was okay? If Franklin had gone to save Michael, he would have needed to know what had happened to him, and the only person who knew at the time was Trevor. And if he had asked Trevor, wouldn't Trevor have assumed Franklin had gone to Michael's rescue? Trevor must have told him where Michael was...

Then it hit her. Lester! Of course. He would've been able to find Michael even if he was down in the darkest pits of Hell, which Alex assumed they would all be going to one day.

Well, maybe not the _darkest_ pits, but they would be pretty gloomy.

As she contemplated this, Solomon reached across his desk for a phone and dialed a number. As he spouted some movie quote, Alex was able to guess whom he was talking to.

Solomon gestured to a TV stand behind her as he said, "I have something to show you. You think you could come down to the studio and see it?"

Michael must have responded enthusiastically, because Solomon grinned. "I'll see you soon then. Oh, and Michael? Your paramour is lovely."

He hung up the phone and stood, walking over to the TV. Alex slid out of the way, and watched as he started up a movie and fast forwarded through some of the credits to one that put a smile on her face.

In big white letters on a red background, the screen said, "Michael De Santa, Associate Producer".

Solomon glanced at her. "What do you think? Pretty nice, huh?"

"Michael is going to kill over," Alex agreed. She moved a chair for him to fall into in case that did happen, just as someone knocked.

Solomon quickly turned off the TV and called for them to come in. Michael opened the door and Solomon held out his hands.

"And you see, this is why I'm glad Devin introduced us," he said. "You'll do things for me and actually get them done, unlike some people I know."

Alex zoned out a little as she studied Michael, the way he was watching Solomon and the way he moved. She felt her heart thudding against her chest, and she did her best to ignore it. Not for the first time, she reminded herself that she couldn't think about Michael in that way. He was her best friend.

But... maybe that was a good thing...?

No, Michael was married, and had two grown children.

But, as he fell backwards into the chair she had strategically placed for that purpose, she let out a small sigh. It was hopeless; Lester had been right, like he always was.

She was in love with Michael.

She blinked a few times as Solomon waved them out of his office. Michael had to push her in order to get her moving, and the both of them headed down to the parking lot. Michael was grinning widely, and Alex smiled herself, glad to see him so happy, especially after everything he'd gone through in the past few days.

They made it outside and Michael pulled out his phone.

Alex was going to ask, but what he said answered her question. "Baby, I just wanted to tell you that I'm finally doing something with my life. I'm making a movie!"

Alex closed her eyes for a moment, allowing what he had said to seep in. He loved Amanda a lot, despite him telling Alex before that he didn't think he did anymore. She had no right to try and intrude on that. It was best if she ignored the feelings she had for Michael and let him be with the one he really wanted.

As they shut their doors to his car at the same time and Alex turned the key in the ignition, Michael looked at her. "Why'd Solomon call you my paramour?"

"That's what he's associated me as, I guess," Alex told him, pulling out of the studio. "You wanna go get some food?"

"Not really," Michael sighed, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. "Chasing down and killing assholes is hard work."

Alex stopped at a stop sign and looked for oncoming cars before pulling forward. "Okay, so, I'll go get us food, and you take a nap. Sound good?"

Michael merely nodded. Alex turned into the driveway and stopped the car, waiting for him to get out. He does, and waved half-heartedly at her before stumbling into the house, asleep on his feet.

Alex shook her head, smiling, and backed out of the driveway again. She started to drive towards Burger Shot, when her butt started ringing. She pulled out her phone and gazed down at the caller ID. Surprise, surprise, it was Trevor.

She decided to answer it this time, choking up her voice as she did so. "I don't want to talk to you," she sobbed into the phone.

"Alex, don't do this to me," Trevor begged on the other end. "I don't want to fight."

"Michael didn't either!" she yelled, and ended the call. Those two years of theatre in high school really had been helpful while she was in Los Santos.

She reached the Burger Shot a few minutes later and ordered their food. She was proud that she was able to recite what Michael would want without even having to ask him first. It was a sign she was hanging around with him a little too much. Or maybe it was just the right amount.

 _No, Alex. You're ignoring the feelings, remember?_

As she excited the fast food place, bags in hand, someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her behind the restaurant. She struggled against them, biting at the hand that was covering her mouth and trying to kick her leg back to get whoever it was in the valuables.

She only succeeded in dropping the bag she was carrying and getting her leg stuck between her and her captor.

"Alex, stop!" they ordered, and she realized who was holding on to her. Knowing their name made her want to get away from them even more. She pulled against their arms, digging her nails into their jacket sleeves.

"Let me go!" she screeched, drawing the attention of several passerby, who merely started to walk faster instead of helping her.

"Alexandra Norton, stop it right now!" her half-brother growled. Alex struggled for a brief moment longer and then went limp. Dave let out a breath of relief, his grasp relaxing. "Good. Now, listen to –"

Before he could finish his sentence, Alex rammed her elbow into his gut, hard, and broke away from him as Dave hunched over, coughing. She raced around to the front of the restaurant and clambered into Michael's car, pulling out of the parking lot and racing down the street as fast as she could manage in the traffic.

She got stuck at a light several blocks away, and she glanced over her shoulder out the back window. There was no sign of Dave or Steve Haines.

Alex let out a breath and leaned back in the seat. What the hell had that been about? Had they really felt it was necessary to attack her in the Burger Shot parking lot instead of just asking to meet her someplace? She was definitely willing to hash-out terms, as long as they included the FIB leaving Trevor, Franklin and Michael alone for good.

She hunched over the steering wheel of Michael's car, trying to figure out what she was going to do now. They were trailing her for sure, and she didn't want to lead them back to Michael's. The longer they thought he was gone, the longer she had to keep Trevor alive.

Alex gunned the engine and drove through the traffic, ignoring every law there was and headed for Murrieta Heights. Lester would have an idea. Lester always had an idea.

($)

"I don't know what to tell you, Alex," he sighed a half-hour later. "You seem to be stuck between a rock and a hard place."

He blew his nose loudly, and Alex took a small step back, stepping on a magazine as she did so. She didn't even want to know what the magazine was. Lester finished blowing his nose and sniffed. "I mean, you're telling all kinds of lies, A. There's no one you've told the truth too."

"I've told you the truth," she argued, dodging the used tissue as he threw in into a garbage can behind her. "And Michael kind of knows the truth."

"Yeah, but he doesn't know the lie you told Trevor," Lester reminded her. "Michael has no idea what stories you're telling about him and where he is. The only person who can help you right now is Franklin, and he doesn't sound like he's going to be of much use." He pulled another tissue from the box on his desk and wiped at his hands. "Does M know that you're Dave Norton's sister?"

"Half-sister," Alex corrected sourly. "He kind of knows." Lester gazed at her, and she shrugged one shoulder. "I mean, he knows I know him somehow, but it's possible he doesn't know how I know him."

Lester shook his head. "Does anyone know?"

"Frankie," Alex replied immediately. "I told him when I told him that Steve Haines wants T dead."

"Still not helping. A," Lester sighed.

"I know," Alex answered sadly.

Lester wheeled around to face his computer. "The only thing I can tell you is to tell Michael everything," he said from over his shoulder.

"Lest..."

"Alex, I don't have any other ideas."

"No, I get it. I just... don't know if I should be around Michael," Alex murmured, lowering herself onto his bed.

Lester's fingers faltered in their typing, and he slowly turned his wheel chair around to look at her. "Why?" Alex merely gazed at him, and Lester rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "The one time I wish I was wrong…"

"It's stupid, I know," Alex said, shaking her head. "I don't… I don't know why. It's not like there's anything special about him! He's a… irritating, sanctimonious pile of shit!"

"That was probably one of the most accurate descriptions of Michael I've ever heard," Lester chuckled. He cleared his throat and eyed her. "What are you going to do about it, though, Alex?" He quickly corrected himself with a shake of his head. "There's really nothing you can do. You just have to let it pass."

"And if it doesn't?" Lester didn't have a response for her, and Alex slumped over, putting her head in her hands.

"You have to tell him, either way," Lester decided after a moment. "There is no other choice here."

Alex sighed heavily. "I know." And she did know. She just don't want to do it. She climbed to her feet slowly.

Lester noticed her slow movements. "Just... go home, Alex. You'll be able to think with a clear mind."

"I'm living in a home that's not mine, and never will be, Lester," she murmured. "Despite how much I want it to be."

She walked halfheartedly out of his house and down to where she had Michael's car parked. She may as well get it back to him, she decided, and then try and figure out a place to sleep.

Forty-five minutes later, she was pulling into Michael's driveway. She got out of the car and gazed up at the house; the lights were still on. Maybe Michael was awake.

Knowing that she should probably think about her decision more carefully, she walked to the door and opened it. She could hear the sound of a movie Michael had playing, and she walked to the archway that connected the family room to the front hall. Michael was asleep on the couch, a bottle of whiskey in his hand, completely empty.

Alex quietly stepped over to him, even though she knew he was dead to the world, and gazed down at his peaceful face. Why was it that everyone looked so much younger when they were asleep? She pulled the bottle from his hand and set it on the floor, and then turned the table light off. Without thinking twice, she walked over so she was beside his head and squatted down so that her face was the same level as his.

"This is the worst decision I'm ever going to make," she whispered softly. Then, she leaned forward and gave the sleeping Michael a gentle kiss on the lips. Even though he was asleep, she could feel warmth spread throughout her whole body, from her toes to the top of her head. It took all of her willpower to pull away and dart towards the front door when Michael stirred.

She heard him call her name in sleepy questioning, but she merely pressed her back against the wall and closed her eyes. Why had she decided to do that?

She heard the couch creak, and Alex panicked. Quickly, she shut the front door, just as Michael appeared in the archway.

"Why'd you get back so late?" he asked her, yawning.

 _Now's your chance Alex. Tell him everything._

"Michael, I need to talk to you. About some serious stuff."

"Ah, Al, can't this wait until morning?" he asked her. "I drank whatever booze was left, and I'm about to fall over."

Alex sighed through her nose and nodded. "Of course."

Michael grinned gratefully at her. "Thanks." He walked across the entrance hall and kissed her on the forehead. "Always thinking about me."

Without another word, he went up the stairs, and Alex was left alone, knees weak. She slid to the floor and covered her face with her hands.

"I should have stayed in Liberty City," she muttered to herself.

"Hey, Al?" Michael called down the stairs. Alex lifted her head and glanced up at him. "Why'd you lie to me?"

"Lie about what?" Alex asked, confused. She'd barely said anything to him.

"Lie about just getting in," Michael explained. "I know I didn't turn off the lights."

Alex climbed to her feet and hit the master switch that turned off all the downstairs lights, unsure what to tell him. "I uh... reasons. I don't know." She climbed up the stairs and started towards the bathroom, only to be pulled to a stop by Michael's hand around her wrist. She slumped her shoulders. "What happened to sleep?"

"You know, before I woke up fully, I could have sworn you were talking to me," he mused behind her. Alex's shoulders stiffened, and she turned to look at him. Michael's gaze was thoughtful as he studied her. "Were you talking to me?"

"I was talking, but it was too myself," she told him. It wasn't a lie.

Michael didn't let go of her wrist. In fact, he pulled her closer to him. "What'd you say?" he asked her softly.

Alex felt her heart beating rapidly inside her chest. She knew that he was only acting this way because he was drunk, but she also knew that he would never act this way again. It was her chance to get the need for him out of her system. If she didn't do it now, she'd never be able to.

She slid between him and the banister, pulling the arm he was holding onto behind her back, which pulled him closer to her. He smelled of whiskey and cologne, and she struggled to keep herself from wrapping her arms around his neck and keeping him with her always.

"I said that I was making the worst decision in my life," she said, gazing up at him through her eyelashes.

Michael didn't appear upset at the position they were standing in. In fact, his other hand moved to join with the one behind Alex's back. They latched together and remained where they were. "And what decision was that?" he asked.

Alex leaned forward and rested her forehead against his chest. The shirt he was wearing was cold, like the side of a pillow that a person didn't sleep on. "Can't you guess?"

"Mm," he mused. His hands hadn't moved, and she didn't want them too. "Now that you mention it, I did feel something..."

"Like what?" Alex queried, lifting her head to look at him. Michael gazed down at her, eyes soft but clear. If he was drunk, which she had been certain of before, he was hiding it very, _very_ well.

"I don't really remember," he told her at last.

"Maybe I can remind you," Alex breathed. She placed her hands lightly on his shoulders, rose up on her toes and kissed him on the lips gingerly, similar to the way she had done only minutes before. She pulled back after a few moments and blinked at him. "Did that jog your memory?"

Michael merely nodded and leaned down to give her a kiss of his own. It was just as gentle, but lasted several seconds longer than hers had. Alex wrapped her arms around his neck, never wanting this to end. However, it seemed Michael still had some willpower, because he pulled away with a sigh. He used one hand to brush a strand of her hair from her face and then put it back.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked her quietly.

Alex squeezed her eyes shut and removed her arms from around his neck before she rested her forehead against his chest again. "I wasn't positive until this afternoon," she told him.

Michael chuckled and buried his face in her hair. "Oh, Alex," he murmured unhappily. "I wish we could."

"I don't think you do," she argued softly. Michael's tried to speak, but she shook her head. "You know what you want, Michael. You just… think it's this because of the whiskey." She blinked away tears and lifted her head again.

Michael leaned down once more and pressed his lips to hers again, as though trying to convince her, as well as himself, that this was what he wanted. Alex knew this, and yet she curled ends of his hair around her fingers. She knew, too, that she had to let him go now, or she wouldn't ever.

Thankfully, Michael's lips left hers first and went to her forehead instead. "Al," he said quietly, his breath warm against her skin. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry when there's no reason to be," she whispered back. She kissed him again, a light one like the first and second, and slid away, heading for the couch. One glance over her shoulder showed Michael standing in a filter of moonlight that was coming through the window above the stairs, watching her go with forlorn eyes.

She hurried out of the front hall before she ran back up the stairs and flung herself at him, begging him to give her one night. Groaning as she sank down onto the couch, she covered her face with her hands.

 _What have I done_?

* * *

 **I'm sorry. I need to go wash my brain out. I'll see y'all on Friday, and, depending on what happens the night before, we'll see if I'm happy or sad.**

 **I could, in fact, end up being SMAD.**

 **Wouldn't that be just wonderful?**


	23. Fruition, Fruition, Fruition!

**Okay. I'm just gonna upload this real quick and then go take a nap.**

 **Love you bbies.**

 **Shady Sweets McGee: Ahah. I have achieved my goal. I hope you didn't get cops at your door, though. Cops at your door are never a fun thing to deal with.  
*cough* I mean, not that I've ever _dealt_ with cops at my door, but... uhm... I assume it's not something you would enjoy. **

**movingshadow66: It's not an _abrupt_ ending, friendship. It's a suspenseful cliffhanger! Besides, if I left chapters at their original lengths, this story would've been over like... two weeks ago, at least. That's no fun!  
**

 **GlossyFresh: It's all right, friendship! I understand your thing about assignments; I just started school three weeks ago, and I'm already feeling swamped a'f. It's difficult. Junior year, man. It's supposed to be the hardest.  
As for things actually relating to the story, "YES. ALEX. YOU GO, GIRL. Even though you did it when he was "drunk", but still. YOU GO." And Michael... man. I got super mad at him when I was writing the chapter you're about to start reading. I don't know if you'll understand why, because I don't, really, but if you do, thank you. **

**Guest: Thank you, friendship without an account. I love this story, too.**

 **Deson9t9: I'm gonna take a shot in the dark and say... Thanks? I guess? I don't know if your review was a compliment, since you spoke of "cringing", but I understand where you're coming from. I cringe a couple times rereading things. It's not great, in all honesty. But I'm glad you're reading it nonetheless!  
And yes, I am a female, but that doesn't have to do with anything, I don't think. But, that's just me. **

* * *

The next morning, after a night of restless sleep, Alex realized that what they had done had been completely wrong. She staggered from the living room up the stairs, almost too weary to stand up straight, and went to brush her teeth.

As she was standing at the counter rinsing off her toothbrush, Michael appeared behind her. Her eyes met his in the mirror, and she put down the brush before turning to look at him head on.

"Good morning," she greeted.

Michael didn't say anything in response. Alex ducked past him out of the bathroom and headed for the stairs. She heard Michael following her, and she stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

"Listen. I get it. You don't want to talk about whatever the fuck it was that happened last night. It was my fault, anyway. You were drunk, and I shouldn't have pushed it. We'll just pretend it never happened."

She turned to face him, but was unable to continue because his lips were against hers. She was going to break it off, but instead, she gave in, knowing she would never be able to break off a kiss from him. Michael pulled her back up the stairs, pressing her against the banister to keep her from leaving, not that she could even if she wanted too.

Alex wound her arms around his shoulders, knowing that as she did it, she was stepping into territory that she couldn't retreat from without Michael's consent. From the way his mouth was pressed against hers, almost in a feverish, kind of starved manner, she felt that they wouldn't be retreating from this battlefield for a bit longer, at least, not until Michael's hunger was satisfied.

She wasn't sure whether to be elated that he was kissing her, and to relish in his warm lips and the scratches from his facial hair, or to be sad because he was probably just using her as a reprieve from not having anyone to kiss in a very long time. As Michael's grip around her loosened, and she realized the battle was ending, she decided that she would be upset about the kiss, and the fact it was probably just him filling his need. After all, that was what she had done the night before.

And just like that, it was over. He stepped backwards away from her, and Alex moved away from the bannister, her lips on fire and wanting more. She blinked a few times to get herself back to the present, and focused on him. When their gazes met, Michael growled and kicked the wall in frustration.

"Whatever that was cannot happen again," he growled, gesturing to the space between them as he ripped his eyes away from her.

Alex glared at him. "So why did you let it happen in the first place?"

"Because every time I've been looking at you lately, it's been taking all of my Goddamn willpower to keep from grabbing you and kissing you as hard as I fucking can," Michael replied, just as angry. "Fuck, Alex, why did you have to break my will last night?"

She didn't have an answer for him, and there was a stiff silence as they glared at one another. Suddenly, the front door was opening. Michael's eyes went wide, and Alex turned to see Jimmy standing in the entry way.

"Oh, you're awake," Jimmy said. "I wasn't sure, but I really needed to talk to you, so I decided fuck it, I might as well try."

Alex took this as an escape mechanism, and she nodded. "Right. So, you two talk. I'm gonna go."

She brushed past Jimmy and started to pull open the front door.

"Alex," Michael said from behind her.

She shook her head and left the house. What else was she supposed to do? She walked down the driveway, and stopped at the sidewalk, looking around for a cab. There wasn't one close at hand, unfortunately, and she let out an annoyed sigh.

She glanced around for a car to steal, and was about to stand in the middle of the street to take the next one that drove by, when Michael called her name from the house.

She wanted to ignore him, to walk into the street without acknowledging that he had spoken, but she couldn't. For reasons she couldn't give names too, she glanced in the direction of the house. Michael was standing on the front step, both doors swung open. He held out his arms in a gesture that asked her where she was going.

"Away from here," she responded, answering his silent question, and stepped backwards off the sidewalk onto the street. In one swift movement, she'd turned on her heel and was running down the hill and away from the house.

When she'd reached the Ponsonbys down the street from the house, she stopped and leaned against the building. What was she going to do now?

She reached for her phone, to call Lester for his wisdom, but realized that she was still wearing the sweatpants she's gone to bed in. Her phone was in Michael's house.

"Fuck!" she cursed, louder than she'd ever cursed before. Elder Price would have been very disappointed in her.

Alex glanced down at her feet, suddenly feeling very subconscious about her appearance. She didn't even have socks on.

"Fuck!"

So she was phoneless, shoeless, and moneyless. Great.

"Hey! You!" The cashier who was working at Ponsonbys had come to the door. "Get away from my store. You're scaring off customers."

Alex wasn't in the mood to argue. She dragged herself away from the wall and back in the direction of Michael's house.

And guess who decided to drive by as she was walking?

"Alex, get your ass in my truck right now," Trevor shouted at her as he pulled alongside the sidewalk. Alex shook her head, and Trevor honked his horn at her. "I'm not kidding, princess. Get in here right now."

"Leave me alone, T," Alex warned, veering away from his truck.

She heard the vehicle stop rumbling, and suddenly Trevor had picked her up and slung her over a shoulder.

"Trevor!" Alex complained. She beat against his back with her fist, but Trevor ignored this. He dropped her into the passenger seat of the truck and went around to the other side before climbing into his own seat and starting the truck back up.

Alex crossed her arms unhappily and glared straight ahead, avoiding Trevor's eyes altogether.

"Where the hell are your shoes?" Trevor demanded of her once he had driven a distance from Mikey's house. Alex refused to look at him. Trevor muttered something under his breath but didn't get any angrier. In fact, his tone got quiet. "Alex, please. I just want to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about, Trevor," she responded. "You and Michael had a fight and one of you might be dead. What else is new?"

That hit something in Trevor's feelings. She could tell because he didn't say anything for almost a minute. When he finally did say something, it wasn't about Michael at all.

"Let's go get you some clothes. It's obvious you need some."

Alex didn't argue. Trevor drove to the closest Suburban, and within a few minutes, Alex was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and some sneakers. She started to walk away down the street, but T grabbed her wrist before she could get more than a few feet away and pulled her back to the truck.

Alex pulled her hair back and put it up in a sloppy ponytail before glaring at Trevor.

"What do you want, exactly?" she asked him.

"I want you to come home!" he cried. "I hardly ever see you anymore because you're always with Michael –"

"So is that what this is?" Alex cut in before he could say anymore. "You're trying to work your way back in now that Michael is gone? I never forgot about what you did for me, T. You're still one of my best friends. But so is Michael, and right now, I need to figure out where he is. And that doesn't include you."

Alex pulled her wrist from his grasp and sprinted away down the street. She didn't stop running until she had reached the Ammunation several blocks away. She braced her hands on her knees, breathing heavily. When her breathing had returned to normal, she leaned against the wall of the gun store and let out a heavy sigh. "I gotta get out of here."

She straightened up to get a hold on her surroundings and found she was farther east than she had thought she was. She could hear the cars on the Los Santos FWY a few blocks away.

She considered backtracking to Michael's to get her phone, but she didn't want to risk him being there.

Sighing, she realized she didn't have a place to go. So, she chose the next best thing.

($)

"Hey, Red!" Lamar met her down the street from his house on Strawberry. He draped his arm over her shoulders and started walking her the opposite direction. "Whatcha doin' out here on your lonesome? Ain't Franklin here wit you?"

Alex shook her head. "Nah, I wanted to talk to you alone about something."

"A'ight," Lamar responded. "Talk away. I got time."

Alex stopped walking and looked up at him. "You know the two guys Franklin and I have been hanging around right?" she asked.

"You mean the old dude with the temperament issue and the creepy one who eats people?" Lamar asked.

"Yeah, those are the ones."

She let out a breath and started to tell Lamar everything. From what had happened after he'd left her at the hotel, to what had just occurred with Trevor. Lamar listened without interrupting once, which must have been a new record for him.

When she had finished, they had walked all the way around Lamar's neighborhood twice. Lamar stopped walking and held up his hands. "So, what am I supposed to be helpin' you with?" he asked her. Alex gazed up at him, and Lamar sighed. "Red, it seems like you can only tell everyone what's going on."

"I tried, Lamar!" Alex exclaimed. "But I'm starting to forget what I've told each of them."

Lamar let out a breath and set his hands on her shoulders. "A'ight, jus' gimme a sec." There was a moment of silence. Finally, Lamar met her gaze. "Who do you want to tell the most?"

Alex frowned. Who did she want to tell the most? Telling Trevor could lead to Michael's imminent death, but it could also save him from whatever Steve Haines had planned. Telling Michael, however, could very well keep both him and Trevor alive, if they could tell Trevor what they knew together.

She bowed her head. "I have to tell Michael before anyone else."

"So, go tell him," Lamar suggested, "and after that, tell the psycho one. Both of you, together, so that he can't kill the one you're in love with."

Alex blushed at that. "I'm not in love with him," she muttered under her breath, knowing she was lying to herself as she said it.

"I don't know why you are. He's old dude, Red. But I ain't judging. So, you need a lift to Rockford Hills?"

Alex grinned and nodded. "Yeah, if you don't mind." Lamar shrugged and started for his car. "Lamar," she called. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked her.

"Letting me tell you. I needed to get that off my shoulders."

($)

"Michael!" Alex opened the door to his house and hurried inside, shutting it behind her. "Michael? I know you're here; I saw your car in the driveway!"

She went to the living room and found him sitting on the couch, gazing down at a picture. "There you are! I need to talk to you," she told him. Michael didn't look up, and Alex furrowed her brow in confusion. "Michael?"

"She left," he said quietly. Alex walked towards him and saw he was holding a picture of him with his family all sitting at a table in a restaurant. They all looked very happy, and so Alex assumed it was only a year or so after they had moved to Los Santos.

Michael lifted his gaze to meet hers. "Amanda left," he explained. "She's going back to North Yankton. We're getting a divorce."

"Oh, M," Alex sighed. She covered her face with her hands and bowed her head. "I'm sorry," she apologized.

"No." Alex lowered her hands and glanced at him. Michael had set down the frame on the side table and was shaking his head. "It was my idea."

"Why would you -?"

"We weren't happy, Al," Michael said, cutting her off. He rose to his feet and stepped over to her, taking one of her hands in his. Alex's breathing hitched as he ran a thumb over the back of her hand. "We needed to do this for a long time."

"This has nothing to do with me, does it?" Alex asked, her stomach turning.

Michael lifted his eyes to hers. "It may, but only a small amount. Our marriage has been falling apart since we had to leave everything and move." He released her hand and reached up to place his against her cheek. Alex leaned her face into it against her will, and Michael shook his head. "I knew that I couldn't be with her knowing I didn't love her anymore."

"And what does that have to do with me?" Alex asked, surprised she was still able to speak. There was a knot in her throat bigger than the amount of trouble she was in.

Michael stroked his thumb against her cheek, gazing at her with a thoughtful expression for a very long moment. Finally, another grin crossed over his face and he said, "I realized what I wanted." He raised his eyes from her lips. "It was you, Al. It's been you since… fuck, I don't even know."

Alex's chest rose and fell quickly and she struggled to pull her eyes away from his. They seemed to be sea-green today, which was different from their usual foresty color, and she found herself drowning in water they reminded her off. For the first time since she was five and Dave had pushed her in, she found that she wasn't afraid of the ocean.

With a short chuckle, she allowed her arms to wrap themselves around his neck, drawing him down to the level she reached on her toes. "You want me more than the Union Depository?"

Michael laughed, too. "You know what? I think so."

Without another word, he closed the small distance that had remained between their lips, claiming her mouth with his. Alex, who'd already drowned in his eyes, found herself drowning in his everything else, from his lips to his embrace. She fell forward against him, letting out a sigh when she remembered that she couldn't drown just yet.

Sadly, she swam back up to the surface and pulled her lips away from his. Michael rested his forehead against hers, eyes opening and meeting hers in concern. "What is it?" he asked.

"I have some things to tell you," she replied quietly. "Do you think you can listen and keep your questions until I finish?"

Michael studied her closely for a moment, and Alex gave him a small grin. Finally, he nodded, and sat down on the couch. Alex joined him, letting out a breath.

"Dave Norton is my half-brother," she blurted when Michael looked at her expectantly.

His eyes went wide, but he stayed silent. Alex bowed her head and went on: "That's how I knew about what happened in North Yankton. I was living with David at the time, and when I found out what he had done, I left. I couldn't stand the fact that he'd actually... worked out a deal with a wanted criminal just to get higher up in his career."

She lifted her eyes to his. "You know most everything from there, but you don't know that Steve Haines may or may not try and have Trevor killed within the next few days. I figure that if we tell Trevor what we know together, he'll stop trying to kill you. We'll take down Haines, and everything will go back to how it was before."

Michael studied her for a moment, silent. Alex folded her hands on her lap and waited, biting her lip nervously. Finally, he sighed and leaned back against the couch. "So, you knew who I was before everything," he said.

Alex shook her head. "Not until we met Davey at the Observatory. That's when I knew for sure."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I wanted you to be a good guy, and not the guy who screwed over his friends and ran away." Michael looked at her, and Alex let out a breath. "I wanted to fix it." She knew that she needed to tell him, and so she bowed her head. "I tried, Michael."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, giving hear a sideways look.

"I wanted to keep Trevor from finding out where you were, but I couldn't. I told him where you lived."

What?" Michael asked, dumbfounded.

Alex closed her eyes and turned away from him. "At first, it was just because Trebor had forced it from me, but then I started to think that I might be able to fix everything that happened in North Yankton. But when I found out what the original plan had been... I..." She swallowed. "I think I cared about you so much at that point that I didn't want Trevor to find out how far it stretched, and that's why I wasn't going to tell him when I found out he was the one who was supposed to die."

Michael didn't say anything. Alex allowed herself to glance over at him. He was staring down at the floor. "You wanted to fix everything," he said quietly, "and yet, everything was fine until Trevor came back."

"You and T were best friends, Mikey –"

"That was then, Alex!" he exclaimed, standing up. He stalked towards the wall and braced his hands against it. "I left North Yankton because of two things: my criminal record, and Trevor! I thought my past would stay behind when I left, but it followed me all the way across the country to Los Santos." He turned to look at her. "Maybe it would have stayed away if you had managed to do the one thing I'd asked you to!"

"Michael, please," Alex begged, standing. She held her hands out in front of her. "I didn't want Trevor to go on thinking both his friends had died in North Yankton. I had to tell him where you lived, because he knew I knew. I didn't have a choice!"

Michael glared at her a moment longer before he covered his face. "So, what?" he asked. "You want me to help you save the same guy who's almost gotten me killed. Several times now."

"And save you in the process," Alex agreed.

"How the hell –"

"Trevor will realize that you're still his friend if you tell him instead of just let him die," Alex told him. She stepped closer. "He'll understand that you care about him enough to say "Hey idiot, if you don't stop being crazy, you might get killed.""

Before Michael could respond, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned, but answered it all the same. "Davey."

"Fuck," Alex cursed involuntarily. She covered her mouth with her hand.

Michael put David on speaker phone. "I'm with her right now, actually."

"Hey, Dave." Alex forced herself to sound cheerful.

"Alex." His greeting wasn't happy. "Has she told you, Michael?"

"Just now." Michael looked sideways at her. "And some other things, too."

Alex was tempted to smack the phone from his hand. Why would he say that to _Dave_ of all people.

Thankfully, however, David didn't seem to notice this. "Michael, we need you to do something for us."

"Nope," Michael said immediately.

"Alright, listen for two seconds. Meet us at your friend Lester Crest's workplace. We'll talk there." Dave paused. "Bring Alex too, I suppose."

"Davey, I'm out!" Michael said as the other end clicked. He huffed and put his phone away with an annoyed shake of his head before looking at Alex. "Has he always been like this?"

"Yes."

"Mother -" Michael groaned and covered his face with his hands for a moment before he sighed. "Alright, you know what? We'll go see what they want."

"Mikey -"

"I know, but the longer we're busy doing things for them, the longer they'll stay away from T, and I have more time to think about how I'm going to tell him Steve Haines wants him dead," Michael said. He walked over to her and took her face in his hands. "I need time, Al. I want to help T, I do, but I can't help him unless I have a plan."

"I thought you were more of a "roll with the punches" kind of guy?" Alex asked him sourly. Michael closed his eyes, and she let out a breath, stepping away from him. "Let's just go."

"Alex." She stopped turning away and bowed her head as Michael came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "We're going to figure this out, okay?"

"Sure, Michael," she replied, pulling away. "You always do, don't you?"

* * *

 **Suspenseful cliffhangers, friendships. Suspenseful cliffhangers.**

 **And... uhm.. *whistles while dumping Amanda in a garbage can* Bye basic! We'll never see you again!**

 ***brushes off hands* That's a way to deal with a problem you don't know how else to solve. Besides, that's what should've _really_ happened during Reuniting the Family. They ain't happy, man. It's v clear that they need to take a longer break. **

**Preferably one that lasts forever.**

 **Aaaaaaand one more thing before I sign off. Thank you to everyone who's favorited and followed not just the story itself, but also me! I'm glad you're looking forward to more things I write even after this one is over.**

 **I actually have some garbage in my brain that I need to dump out into a word document, so... maybe I'll make it a chaptered Fic where every chapter is a new garbage dump.**

 **Yeah, that sounds like a plan to me.**

 **Okay, time to sleep. Farewell until Monday, friends!**

 **Question for the Day: I know I should've handled the Amanda problem differently, but what do you guys think? Is it okay the way it is, or should I have made a bigger deal out of it?**


	24. 80's Romance Movie Bullshit

**Monday Monday Monday!**

 **Why are you excited, Wiggs?**

 **I'm really not.**

 **Desom9t9: Yeah, I know man. I get it. "It's a romance story, it has to have been written by a female who has a crush on the character that is being romanced with the OC. Duh." I get it all the time, trust me.  
I live vicariously through my OCs' relationships with characters in things I enjoy because I don't have a real life relationship. Nor do I want one. Fuck that. Thank you for the apology, and for reading. It's appreciated. **

**princessstark: Whoo. I'm glad it seems like everyone is okay with the way I handled it. I wasn't sure if people were going to be like, "Heeeeey... that didn't happen in the game. What the hell are you doing?" If anyone _had_ been like that, I would've just said, "Uhm, dudes? This FanFiction is based around a character that doesn't even exist in the game. What the hell are _you_ doing?"**

 **awolfnamedThaliaJackson: Thanks, fam. I'm glad you lit her on fire, because I'm afraid of flames. I appreciate that immensely.**

 **Zipy: You are never alone in wishing Michael/Amanda had ended. When I'm not writing this story or playing online, I'm Michael/Trevor trash, so...  
I actually automatically disliked Amanda when I first started playing, mainly because I don't like her character whatsoever. So, no, you're not alone at all. **

**GlossyFresh: *high five* Amanda is a terrible character and anyone who likes her needs to put their heads on straight because how could they like her? She's mean! To everyone! To Michael, to her kids... she wasn't mean to Trevor directly, but when she spoke about him to Michael she was mean... I bet she's mean about Franklin, too. She's not a nice lady at all.**

 **Okay, let's get to the reading part, now. It's a long one, and the beginning part is mostly in-game stuff, so if you don't care, I'd say you can skip past the first quarter of the chapter. You'll see the important stuff, I think.**

* * *

Alex and Michael reached Lester's before Dave did, and as they went up the stairs, Michael called, "What's going on?"

"Oh, just enjoying a little labor dispute," Lester responded from where he was sitting behind a table. "See, we're about to do something really, really bad. So I need to present myself as a proper textile magnate, so…" He gestured to the area they were standing in.

Alex and Michael glanced around the workplace. All of the sewing machines were empty. "So, you stop making anything?" Michael questioned.

"Nothing looks more suspicious in America than someone who's actually prepared to make something!" Lester told him.

Michael and Alex exchanged a look before Michael shook his head with a short laugh. "Jesus."

"What about you?" Lester asked him.

"Oh," Michael sighed, leaning against the table Lester was sitting behind. "Fucking Trevor. We're having some problems."

"Brad?" Lester questioned, looking at Alex. She diverted her gaze.

"What else?" Michael asked him.

"Anyway, the Union Depository is on hold for now," Lester told him, changing the subject. "We can't do it without him, especially now that he knows."

Hearing this, Alex looked up sharply, inhaling a breath. "That's it!" she exclaimed. Michael and Lester looked at her in surprise, and she was about to explain her idea to them when they heard the doors down below open and close, and someone come up the stairs. Dave appeared, looking frazzled.

"Thank God you guys are here," he said, buttoning the sleeve on his jacket. "You alone?"

"Davey, where's your boyfriend Steve?" Michael asked.

"He's on his way up," Dave responded, glancing over at Alex, who took a step away from him and closer to Michael. "Listen, the shit's about to hit the fan," he told them, pulling a stool over to the table. Alex slid behind Michael, peeking over his shoulder at Dave.

Michael held out his arms. "Our entire lives together have been nothing but a series of fans and shits," he said.

"Sort this problem out for me, and I will get Mr. Leisurewear off your back," Dave said quietly.

"And if we don't?" Michael asked.

"Then I will go to jail and you will get shot."

 _Oh, you're an asshole!_ Alex wanted to shout at him, but she kept her mouth closed, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Ah, fuck you, Dave!" Michael exclaimed. "I've heard it all before."

"Not like this you haven't," Dave told him.

Steve hopped up the stairs as Dave finished speaking. "Has he briefed you?" he asked, glancing in Dave's direction.

"Oh, why, yes, he has," Lester said. "He told us that if we do what you say, then together we can take down the big bad wolf that is government corruption."

"Yeah, and if you don't, we're all gonna fry," Steve agreed, pointing at him. "Because the Agency is onto us. I've even got some fools in our own Bureau that are questioning my methods." He started to laugh as he turned away and came back. "They think I'm a liar, a cheater, some kind of a killer and a thief."

"So?" Michael queried sarcastically.

Alex looked at Steve closely. He really did look frazzled, almost pyschotic. How could Dave think that Trevor was the one they needed to kill when Steve was clearly the one who was going to lose it?

"So, there's some uh… "evidence"," the FIB agent explained. "I need you guys to find out what they know."

"Alright, so what?" Michael questioned. "You want Lester here to hack into the system and wipe it all clean?"

"No, no, no, that will not work," Lester argued immediately. "The only way to access it is through your buildings."

Steve pointed at him as Michael threw his head back. "Aw, fuck me," he groaned to the ceiling.

Alex had to bite her lip to keep from responding out loud to the plea.

"Michael," Steve said, looking at him. "You'd be doing me a very big favor. And if you do this, I'll make sure that all your files are deleted. I promise you." He started to go down the steps again.

"Hey!" Michael said before he could go. Steve stopped and looked at him. "This is the last thing we do, and we're done, period."

"Of course!" Steve said, starting down the stairs again. "I'm a man of my word." Alex snorted quietly to herself. "Dave, let's go!" he called.

Davey glanced at them all and met Michael's gaze. "Do not let her help, do you understand me?"

"What?" Michael demanded as Alex shook her head. "Why did you make me bring her here, then?"

"Because I wanted her to know what was going on without you having to relay too much information and waste time," Dave responded. He looked at Alex. "You are not going to be a part of this."

"You aren't in charge of me, Davey," Alex told him bitterly. "I do what I want."

Michael let out a breath. "No, he's right," he said quietly.

Alex walked around him so that she could see his face."What?" she asked, confused.

"I'm not bringing you into this," Michael told her. "The last time we did something along these lines, you had to..." He trailed off and shook his head. "I'm not going to put you into another situation like that."

"Mikey -"

"No, Al. You're going to stay with Lester while I deal with whatever plan we come up with." Michael looked away from her and back to Dave. "She won't be a part of this."

"Michael!"

"Good," Dave said. He started to walk down the stairs, and Lester followed him. Michael was going to as well, but Alex grabbed his arm before he could.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "I thought -"

"I'm not - I'm not putting you in another dangerous position, Al," Michael told her. "I can't."

"Now is not the time for you to pull some 80's romance movie shit out of your ass," Alex growled.

"Al,you should know by now that I base everything off of 80's movies," Michael replied with a small grin. "And now that we're here, it's just going to get a whole lot worse, and a whole lot more romantic."

"You're not exactly the boss of me, either," she said shortly, ignoring the obvious flirting.

"I know," Michael replied, "but I also know that you won't do this."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because if you do, I'll never forgive myself," Michael said. Alex gazed at him, and Michael met her eyes steadily. "If you won't stay behind for yourself, stay behind for me."

Alex stared at him for a moment longer before she silently nodded. Michael let out a breath of relief and placed his hand on the back of her neck before resting his forehead against hers. "When I'm done with this, we'll talk about Trevor, alright?"

"Hey, lovebirds!" Lester called up the stairs to them. "We have a heist to plan."

Michael let her go, and they walked down together. Lester gave them both a look before he led the way out of the factory and towards Michael's car. "We need to go to the FIB building," he said to Michael as he climbed into the passenger seat. "Parking lot entrance."

Michael slid behind the steering wheel and waited for Alex to close the back door before heading towards the FIB building. "So, you got any idea as to how we'll do this?" he asked as he drove. "Scope it out?"

"Not really," Lester replied, "but I thought we'd start by finding a way into the building."

"We're going in through the parking lot?" Michael asked incredulously.

"No, no, no," Lester said, "we're waiting for someone to come out of it - a janitor."

"Alright," Michael agreed after a moment. "How's that going to get us in?"

"Well, the janitors are all on temp contracts - they get replaced when their backs go, or they ask for a day off, so we find one of these guys, we turn him and that's our in."

"Okay. There a particular guy?" Michael queried.

"I'm in the temp company's database right now. Found a guy about to clock off. Got the file here… Lemme see…" He scrolled through his phone briefly. "Harvey Molina… License plate 83QSL722. We'll follow him and see what we think," Lester finished, glancing up from the screen.

Alex leaned around Michael's seat so that she would be able to see the cars that came out of the parking garage as well. "He should be coming out here soon," Lester told them both. There was the light from headlights. "Here we go…" Alex leaned forward. The license plate didn't match. "This is not the car we're looking for."

"Nice reference, Lest," she praised.

"Thank you."

"Alright, nerds," Michael said. "What do you think about this whole messed up situation, Lester?"

"I think they'll either kill you after this is done, or keep you doing these stupid jobs until they don't have to kill you, because someone else has done it for 'em," Lester said plainly.

Alex swallowed thickly. "No, they won't," she said darkly. "I'll kill them before they can do either."

"Easy, Al," Michael said teasingly. "Now's not the time for 80's movie romance."

There was another car. It didn't match, either.

"So, what do we do to make sure Alex doesn't have to kill them for wanting to kill me?" Michael asked.

"What can we do?" Lester questioned with a shrug. "We do the job. Maybe you can delete the files when you're inside doing whatever else you're doing. That might be a way out."

"Yeah, well, a way out is exactly what I need," Michael said with a shake of his head.

More headlights, another no match.

Lester huffed. "It's hard to get motivated on a job with no financial incentive," he decided.

"You can't put a price on freedom," Michael joked. Neither Lester nor Alex laughed.

Instead, Lester said, "That spur won't be there for the crew. I'm gonna ask Mr. Haines for a budget, maybe the leftovers from the Paleto score. We need something."

"Yeah, see what you can do," Michael said.

Another hit and miss.

"So, what is this thing I'm sensing between you two?" Lester asked after a moment.

"What do you mean?" Michael queried, glancing backwards at Alex.

"There's clearly something going on, but I can't tell if it's what Alex was talking to me about earlier, or something else," Lester explained, also turning to look at her.

Alex merely grinned sheepishly as another car turned out of the parking garage. "Hey look, it's our guy!" she said, pointing.

Michael and Lester both turned forward. "Stay behind him," Lester said as Michael put the car in drive, "but don't let him see you."

"So, what's gonna happen when this guy gets wherever he's goin'?" Michael asked as he followed him up the street at a nice distance.

"He's gonna get his severance package," Lester explained.

"I can't tell if that's some creepy euphemism, or a plain statement of facts."

"It's whatever you want it to be," Lester told him eerily.

Michael glanced at Alex in the rearview mirror, and she shook her head at Lester's antics. "Okay…" Michael said slowly, looking forward again.

They drove after the janitor at a good distance, stopping down the road aways when he hit a red light. Lester pulled his phone out again and started to look through it. Michael glanced over at him and huffed. "Hey, you mind?" he asked. "Put away the smartphone, or pad or whatever the hell that is for a minute. No surfing while I'm trying to tail this guy!"

The light changed and they continued after him. Lester gave Michael a small glare. "Its work related," he muttered.

"Yeah, well, I'd prefer all hands on deck right now, if it's okay with you." Michael shook his head. "God, you're worse than my son."

Lester calmly put down his phone and looked at him. "You want to break into the FIB's West Coast headquarters, you're going to need more than a janitor's license plate number," he told him. He gestured to his phone. "Let me work on some angles while you keep this car behind that one and between these white lines."

"That's it!" Michael said, moving into another lane. "I mean, other than a few missing expletives and terms of racial abuse, that was my son in spades. Wasn't it, Al?"

"Yeah, I heard Jimmy in there," she agreed. Lester shook his head, not raising his eyes from the phone.

There was silence for a few moments, and then Lester glanced up in Michael's direction. "I just spoke with Agent Haines. We've got the budget to pull this off."

"Well, that's good," Michael said, "but how in the hell did you -"

"Email, Michael," Lester explained before he could finish. "I'm sure you've heard of that, at least."

Alex smiled while Michael snorted. "Sure, I've heard of it," he said, "I just prefer to talk to people."

"It is talking, just via words on a screen instead of words coming out of a mouth. This way, you don't have to deal with stinky breath," Lester told him. "And I'm sure Steve Haines's breath is the stinkiest of all."

They stopped down the street from another red light. "Come on," Michael sighed, "what do we do when he gets home? What do we need?"

"We need cooperation," Lester responded. "And maybe his overalls and an ID."

"And if he don't cooperate?"

"Have you ever cleaned up shit for Steve Haines?" Lester asked, looking at him. "He'll cooperate."

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. After several more minutes of trailing, the janitor finally pulled up in front of a blue ramshackle building. He climbed out of his car as Michael parked his up the street aways. They watched him talk to a woman wearing yellow, and probably get rejected by the way he stalked up the stairs to his apartment.

"Alright," Lester said to Michael. "Go in there and talk to him."

Michael got out of his car and went after the janitor up the stairs. Lester and Alex watched him enter the apartment building before Lester looked back at Alex. "What is going on between the two of you?" he demanded.

"Nothin'."

"Don't "nothing" me, Alex," Lester said sternly. "What did we talk about?"

"I know, Lest," she muttered, not taking her eyes off of the door. "But… it isn't one-sided."

Lester let out a small groan. "Alex -"

"He and Amanda are getting a divorce," Alex said quietly. "Michael said it was bound to happen, but I… I really don't want to think it was because of me."

"But what about… the sex?"

"What about the sex?"

"Michael is 45, and you're... however old. Michael has two grown children. What are you going to do if you get pregnant?"

Alex hesitated for a long second, unsure if this was information she wanted to share with Lester. "Fuck it," she finally muttered. "I can't get pregnant, Lest."

"What?"

"I – I just can't," Alex repeated, bowing her head. "It's… yeah."

"Y - You mean…?"

"Yep. I uh… I never got a period… so I went to my doctor a long while ago, and… yeah." She let out a hoarse laugh. "I can't believe I told _you_ that, of all people."

Lester was quiet for a few moments, and Michael appeared again, carrying a duffle bag in one hand. He walked down the stairs and back towards the car as Lester said, "Well, maybe this is best for him."

"Do you think?" Alex asked hopefully, lifting her head. _Thank God he didn't press on the pregnancy topic._

"Sure," Lester replied. "As long as he doesn't get killed by your brother."

"Half-brother," Alex grumbled just before Michael pulled open the door. He tossed the duffle bag back at her and settled down in the driver's seat.

"We gotta go back to my office," Lester told him.

Michael started the Tailgater and began to drive. As he drove, he glanced first at Lester, and then back at Alex. "Am I missing something?" he queried after gazing at her for a moment.

"No!" Alex said quickly, probably a little too quickly.

Michael looked at Lester again. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Lester told him. "Don't worry about it." He gestured back at the duffle bag on Alex's lap. "That was easy."

"Guess you were right," Michael replied, allowing the subject change. "Steve Haines is a shitty boss."

"I texted Franklin while you were in there. He's coming to meet us," Lester said.

"Yeah? What do we need him for?" Michael questioned.

"Grunt work. Information gathering," Lester explained.

"What information?"

"The plans to the office. There aren't any digital copies, or if there are, I'm not clever enough to find them," Lester responded. "The architect is LS based, so I thought Frank could tail him, take a hard copy."

"It sounds complicated," Michael said, pulling into the right lane. "You sure you need these plans?"

"Yeah, I do. If I'm going to find a way to bypass a couple of hundred million dollars' worth of government security!" Lester exclaimed.

"Maybe I can go with Franklin, work a little of my female charm on this architect," Alex suggested.

"No," Michael said immediately.

"C'mon, Mikey. It's not like I'm in the heist. I'm just stealing some plans. This way, Franklin doesn't have to kill anybody." Michael started to shake his head, and Alex leaned forward between the two seats and looked at him. "I have to help in some way. Let me do this, at least."

Michael let out a breath. "We'll talk about it with Franklin."

"He's already here," Lester said as they pulled up in front of the factory. Alex slid the duffle bag off of her and followed Michael into the building and up the stairs to Lester's office. Franklin was sitting on the couch as they came in, and he looked up.

"What's the problem?"

"Steve fucking Haines," Michael responded with a shake of his head. Alex dumped the duffle bag on the floor and let out a breath.

"Of course it's Steve fucking Haines," Franklin said, standing up. "It's always Steve Haines."

"That is not strictly true," Lester said, coming through the door. He closed it and gestured around the room. "It's Steve Haines or its Trevor or it's his family, it's always one of them."

"Yeah, that's true, it is always one of them," Michael agreed. He sat down on the couch. "I'm a fat old fuck with a horrible family and even worse friends."

"You're not fat, M," Alex told him.

He shook his head and pointed to Franklin. "I told you, Frank, I ain't a good role model, period."

"Yeah, whatever dog," Franklin said. "It's either this or dealing dimebags. The bullets come crackin' at yo' ass either way."

"Yeah, thanks," Michael said quietly as Lester reemerged from the other room.

"We need to find out something about this FIB building," he told Franklin. "A weakness, or a way in. Next time I meet a morally destitute, totally delusional, highly corrupt government agent, I hope he's a nice one."

"Man, I'm not going in the motherfucker by myself," Franklin said, walking over to join Michael on the couch.

"No, no, no!" Lester said quickly. "Nobody is going in. We need to do some recon, we need a little more information." Franklin held out his hands in question. "I need the architectural plans but they're not online anywhere, so I need paper copies. Now, the architect's name is Chip Peterson. This was his first big commission, and his office is down in Backlot City."

Michael looked at Lester and then up at Alex. She tilted her head, and he sighed. "Alright. Franklin, take Alex and trail him for a little while, and then we'll talk," he said.

"Alright dog, I got'chu," Franklin responded. "C'mon, Red." He walked out of the room, and Alex moved to follow him, but Michael grabbed her hand before she could.

She looked down at him, and he let out a breath. "Don't… don't do anything stupid, alright?"

"I won't," she promised. Michael nodded and let her go. "I'll see you, Lester."

"Yeah, good," Lester replied, waving his hand at her.

She shuffled down the stairs after Franklin, who was waiting at the bottom for her. He gestured with his chin up the stairs. "Something goin' on?"

Alex shrugged and pushed her way outside with Franklin behind her. "Let's just go get those plans."

($)

"Damn, we got some buildin' goin' on up in here," Franklin mused as they gazed up at the office Chip Peterson was the head architect on. Franklin looked at Alex. "You sure you don't want me comin' in there with you?"

"No, I'm good," Alex responded. "Just stay out here with the car; I might need to make a quick getaway."

"How do you know this is gonna work?" Franklin queried as she fluffed her hair up a bit.

"I… I dated him in high school," she mumbled.

"What?"

"Yeah… Chip Peterson, junior when I was a freshman. He was captain of the chess team and the Mathletes," Alex replied. Franklin started to chortle, and she punched him in the shoulder. "Shut up. He was cute with his glasses and his button up shirts."

"I can't believe you dated a math nerd," Franklin snickered.

Alex glared at him and pointed to the car. "Stay there and be ready to drive away fast, alright?"

"Sure, chess-queen," Franklin teased, heading back over to the Buffalo. Alex let out a breath and started for the office. It was hard to keep from laughing herself, to be honest. She hadn't wanted to date Chip; Dave had told him that she was in love with him and, because she was a nice person, she didn't have to heart to turn him down when he asked her on a date.

She was going to try to bring up the nice times they'd had before she stole his plans. Hopefully, it would be distraction enough.

"Excuse me," she called to a worker. "Do you know where Mr. Peterson is?"

He pointed to a car that had just pulled past her. A man wearing a gray suit climbed out of it, calling "Site inspection! Architect onsite." Alex recognized his voice; it was definitely Chip.

"Thanks," she said to the worker, starting to follow him.

"Hey, lady, you can't be on here without a hat!" the worker told her. He tossed her one of the yellow construction hats, and she gazed down at it for a moment before sighing and putting it on.

She then trailed after Chip, not wanting to call attention to herself until they were mildly alone. He walked through the site to a set of orange elevators. He climbed into one and was about to press the button. Alex decided now was a good time.

"Chip!" she called before he could push it. The architect looked in her direction as she jogged towards him, removing the hat. "I can't believe you're actually here!" she said breathlessly. "I mean, I'd heard you'd managed to become an architect, but wow!"

Chip studied her for a long moment, and then his eyes widened. "Alex? Alex Norton?" She grinned, and he laughed. "Jeeze, I haven't seen you in a long time! How are you?"

"Not as good as you, it looks like," Alex responded. She leaned against the wall of the elevator. "Looks like all that math paid off, huh?"

"Yeah, well, the nerds in high school do usually turn into the successful ones," Chip agreed. He gazed at her with a small smile on his face. "You look good."

"That makes two of us," Alex told him.

Without another word, Chip attacked her, covering her mouth with his. Alex grunted in surprise, but then let out a small moan, egging him on. Chip trailed kisses down her neck and around her collarbone. While he was distracted, Alex picked up the briefcase from where he'd put it on the floor.

She then lifted her knee right into his valuables, hard. Chip groaned and fell away, holding his parts in one hand. Alex sprinted away from the elevator and back towards the entrance of the construction site where Franklin was waiting. He looked at her in surprise as she scrambled into the car.

"Drive!" she commanded.

Franklin did as she said, pushing down on the gas pedal and getting the hell out of there. When they were out of sight of the building, he looked at her again. "What the hell happened?" he asked as she straightened her shirt and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it," she huffed. "Please don't tell Michael I looked like this either, okay?"

Franklin shook his head. "Hell no, that's your problem, Red." They drove back to the garment factory in silence, and Alex shuffled up the stairs in shame, her neck hot. That wasn't how she'd wanted it to go at all, but she'd gotten the briefcase, at least.

They walked into Lester's office and Michael looked up from where he was sitting on the couch. "What's cracking?" Franklin queried as Alex set the briefcase down next to Lester.

"So, all good?" Michael asked, standing and walking over to her.

"Sure," she said, rubbing the back of her neck and praying her blush wasn't visible. "I got 'em, right?"

Michael brushed some hair away from her face and studied her. Alex glanced at Franklin for help, and he quickly said, "So, this shit's for real, then? We're just gonna rob the FIB and be allowed to walk by your boys like that?"

"I don't fucking know," Michael sighed, turning away from Alex. "Probably not." The all turned to face Lester, who had tacked the plans onto his corkboard. "What do you got?"

"I don't quite know yet," Lester told him. "Give me a minute, I'm not a fucking computer!" He gazed at it for two seconds longer. "Oh… Oh… Oh, maybe I am!" He turned around to face them. "Here's what I think. We have two options. The new security software goes into containment mode in case of emergency, you know, earthquakes, mudslides, acts of God. So, we can plant some fire bombs. They go bang! The emergency calls goes out, we hijack it, show up as firemen, and then we grab the containment drive."

Michael and Franklin exchanged a look. "What's the other option?" Michael asked.

"We could hack the system on site," Lester said. "We'll go in by air. Hope we don't run into too much physical resistance."

"Sounds relaxing," Franklin said. "Either bombing an office ran by a division of corrupt government psychos, or defeating one of the world's most complex security systems using our worthless-ass ninja skills, huh?"

Michael was studying the board. "Yeah… Eenie meanie miney mo."

"If you favor the fire bomb, containment drive option, you'll go in with that janitor's ID you picked up. It'll be at night, when most of the workers are off. You mop the place, and plant the bombs where we need 'em," Lester told him.

"Seriously?" Michael asked, looking at him. "I gotta mop?"

"Yeah, yeah – you really do. They'll clock on the cameras if you're play acting." Michael snorted, and Lester went on, "You also need a fire truck to show up in when the bombs go off, and a getaway car stashed in a quiet place near the Bureau, so you can torch the truck and get out. The car doesn't have to be anything special, there shouldn't be any heat."

"What about the other way, with the, ah, ninja skills?" Michael queried.

"You choose that route, you won't be using the janitor's gear, but we had to cover all the bases," Lester said. "Your FIB paymasters will have to provide you with a chopper and a pilot. You fly way up above the building, parachute in, and gain access through the room here." He pointed to a photo he'd tacked to the board. "You'll need to be armed to the teeth, mind you, just in case the shit goes down."

"Mopping or parachuting." Michael hummed. "Wow, you're making this choice really difficult."

Alex could tell he was being sarcastic, but she wasn't sure which option he preferred. The mopping one sounded a lot safer in her opinion, but with the crew, things usually went downhill no matter what choice they picked.

Michael looked at Franklin. "What do you think?"

"I don't know, man," he responded, taking a step back. "This is yo' forte, not mine."

Michael studied the board again for a long moment, and then he let out a breath. "Alright," he said, "I guess I'm mopping." Alex let out a relieved sigh, and Michael looked at her. "I knew you'd prefer that one."

"Okay, you'll need a couple of gunmen," Lester told him, reaching down to pick up the crew slips. "They'll go in with you as firemen. Everything goes to plan, they won't fire a single bullet, but you will be running into a burning high rise with them, so consider that."

"So, we choose Gus and this Hugh guy," Michael said, looking through the papers. "Gus was with us before, he'll be fine."

"Yeah, and Welsh should be okay. He's got a few scores left in him," Lester agreed. He put up the papers and gestured to the whole board. "Okay, that all look good too you? You are robbing the FIB here."

Michael nodded. "Yeah, we're good."

"Alright, I'll make the arrangements and call you when we're ready," Lester said, moving away from the board.

"Alright, shit, hit me," Franklin said before he walked out of the office.

"You know," Lester said, looking at Michael. "I'm still looking into that Union Depository gig. It's real interesting, but I don't know if we can do it without you-know-who."

"Ah, well, as long as he can't do it without us," Michael responded, gesturing for Alex to follow him. "Let's go."

Reminded of the plan she'd come up with before, Alex followed him out of the office and down the stairs. "Mikey, we can tell Trevor this way!" she said to him as they walked outside.

"What do you mean?" he asked her.

"Trevor wants nothing more than too do the UD," Alex explained, climbing into his car. "He knows that he can't do it without us. If that means he has to be buddy-buddy with us, then he will be."

"So you think that the UD is the way to get Trevor to come back to our side?" Michael questioned. Alex nodded. "Huh, I guess it isn't a bad idea."

"Of course not," she said. "I came up with it."

Michael smiled slightly. "We'll talk to him about it when we're done dealing with this FIB shit, okay?"

"Sure," Alex replied. "So, what are we doing first?"

"Well, we could get the car or the fire truck. I think I'll leave the car up to Franklin, though. He knows about that kind of thing." Michael glanced sideways at her. "How'd you manage to get the plans?"

Alex immediately felt her face grow warm. "I don't really want to talk about it, Michael," she said, turning her head so that she was looking out the window.

Michael didn't say anything else about it. Instead, he reached over and took her hand. "Fire truck?" he asked, pulling off to the side of the road.

"Sounds like a plan," Alex agreed. She reached into her pocket with her free hand and pulled out her phone, dialing 911. She hit the speaker phone button as it started to ring.

"What is your emergency?"

"There's a fire across the street from me," Alex told the dispatcher, distorting her voice. She threw in a cough. "I-It's pretty big. I need a fire truck, fast."

"Thank you for calling. We have sent a truck en-route to your location."

"Thank you." She hung up the phone and looked at Michael. "How are we gonna do this?"

"I'm going to ask you to go home and let me take care of this," Michael told her. He let go of her hand and climbed out of the car just as there was the sound of a siren in the distance. Michael leaned in the driver's window as Alex slid into the seat. "I'll take this and drop it off at Lester's."

"And then you'll come home?"

"And then I'll come home," Michael agreed. He leaned in further and kissed her forehead lightly. "I'll see you soon."

"Okay," Alex agreed. The fire truck pulled around the corner, and Alex drove away from the curb, watching Michael through the rear view mirror. He pulled out a pistol before going towards the fire truck.

Alex pulled around the corner before she could see what happened next, but she could hear gun shots and people screaming. _Well,_ she thought _, that's nothing new._

* * *

 **You know what else isn't new, Alex? Johnny Mac being up on the block in Big Brother. God I'm pissed off. Fuck you, Austin, for listening to Vanessa. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck.**

 **If you couldn't tell, I am in love with Johnny Mac. Yes, I realize I am trash, and yes I realize that he is ten years older than me.**

 **It's a minor setback.**

 **Also, Alex had to act like a whore! Whoohoo! That ain't the first time! Anyone remember the Blitz Play chapter? That's what Michael was talking about when he decided he wasn't going to let her help them on the FIB heist.**

 **Zero to whore real quick.**

 **Question for Today: I already asked about TV shows, didn't I? Hm... Okay. How about... I watched _The Outsiders_ yesterday, which happens to be one of my favorite books and movies. Does anyone have a favorite book that turned movie, and the movie is also there favorite? Other variations of my own include _Lord of the Rings_ and _The Hobbit._**


	25. The Last One (Yeah okay)

**Fuuuuuck.**

 **I usually proofread all of this on the day I upload the last chapter, but I didn't and now I have to proofread this whole... chapter... *sigh***

 **Deson9t9: Man, you're lucky you didn't get sucked into this season. It's either going to be the death of me, or it has already been the death of me and I'm writing this from the afterlife. In which case "Oooh. I'm a ghoooost."**

 **GlossyFresh: Thank you, friend. I appreciate the support, and I'm sure Johnny Mac would too if he knew you were giving it to him. He's safe for now, but we'll see. And no, I'm pretty sure Alex will do everything in her power to make sure Michael never finds out what Chip did, the dirty punk.**

 **princessstark: I hope you like this chapter too, because IT'S FINNA ABOUT TO TAKE ME A HALF-HOUR TO PROOFREAD. WHY DIDN'T YOU DO IT ON MONDAY, ME? I DON'T KNOW ME.  
Sorry. I didn't mean to do that to you.  
**

 **Let's just get into it, I guess. Rather, you guys can just get into it. I can't.**

* * *

Michael didn't come home as quickly as she'd thought he would. Alex paced in front of the couch, phone in hand, wondering what was going on and whether or not she should call him. He'd been gone for an hour when she decided that she needed to call him.

She started to dial his number when an emergency news broadcast suddenly came onto the TV screen. Alex sank down onto the couch as she watched in shock. It was a police chase, the car in question a red car driving erratically towards the airport.

Behind the two police cars was a yellow sports car following after it. The line of cars raced onto the airfield, the red car leading them under planes and across the field.

"Oh my God," Alex exclaimed when the camera on the Weasel News helicopter zoomed in on the car chase as the red car parked and Devin Weston's lawyer climbed out of it. The yellow car parked as well, and Michael jumped out of it, running after her into the hangar.

"Oh my God!" Alex jumped to her feet as the broadcast cut out. What the hell was Michael doing chasing after Devin Weston's legal counsel? She knew she couldn't call him now, since he was busy, but Jesus, he had some explaining to do.

"Jimmy!" she shouted, knowing that he was home. She heard him come down the stairs, and then he was in the archway of the living room, looking concerned.

"What?"

"When your father gets home, tell him he and I are going to have a long discussion," Alex told him, stalking past him out of the living room.

"What are you talking about, Alex?" Jimmy asked, confused.

"Just tell him to call me when he gets here," Alex said. "I'm going out." She shut the front doors and stalked over to where she'd pulled Michael's car into the driveway. "Oh, he better pray Trevor wasn't watching the news," she grumbled to herself as she started the car and pulled onto the street.

She pulled out her phone and dialed T's number. He picked up on the first ring. "Alex! You're calling me!" he said joyously.

"Where are you, T?" she asked him.

"Sandy Shores. Ron and I are with Chef at the kitchen. Why?"

 _Michael, you are a lucky son of a bitch_. "I was just seeing if you were busy, that's all."

"Well, if you need me for something -"

"No, Trevor, it's cool," Alex responded. "I'll talk to you about it later, when you aren't distracted, alright?" Her phone buzzed, signifying someone else was calling her. "Listen, I gotta go, but I'll call you soon."

"Alex -"

She hung up the phone and answered the other call. "Michael De - whatever the fuck your last name is - you are in trouble."

"Why? What'd I do?" he asked her.

"What the fuck were you doing chasing Devin Weston's lawyer onto a fucking airfield?" she demanded.

"Saving my movie," he replied.

Alex frowned. "What?"

"Listen, I'll explain it all too you later," Michael said. "Lester called and said we're ready to move on the thing."

"Already?" Alex let out a breath. "Alright, am I meeting you at the garment factory?"

"Yeah, Lester said he wants you to drive him too his house and that's where you guys will wait for us to finish," Michael told her. "I have to pick up my jumpsuit and find out how I'm planting these firebombs."

"Okay, I'll see you there, then," Alex said. She hung up the phone and changed her route so that she was driving towards Lester's factory. It took her a good twenty minutes to get there from where she was, and when she pulled up, Michael was coming down the stairs in his janitor outfit.

Alex grinned and climbed out of his car. "Someone looks good," she said to him with a laugh.

"Bite me," he muttered. "I'm finding out what my life could have been had I decided to be a normal person." He walked up to her and nodded to the factory. "Lester's inside, setting fire to the place. He'll be down shortly."

"Okay." She stared at him for a moment before she stood up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug. Michael hugged her back tightly, arms around her waist. Alex turned her head so that she was speaking in his ear; "Be careful."

"I will be," he promised. "This is the last one, Al."

She pulled back and kissed him. Michael tightened his grip around her and pulled her closer to deepen it. "Hey!" Lester exclaimed, causing Alex to turn her head and break off the kiss. Lester waved his hand at Michael. "Get out of here, you idiot, or you're going to lose your time slot."

"Alright, alright, I'm going," Michael grumbled. He kissed her again, briefly this time, and then let her go. He climbed into his car and drove off, leaving Alex and Lester alone in front of the garment factory. Smoke was beginning to come out of the windows.

Alex watched Michael disappeared over the horizon before she sighed and turned to Lester. He was giving her a look. "C'mon, Alex," he said with a shake of his head and he walked towards another car that was parked.

Alex climbed into the driver's seat and turned the key Lester handed her in the ignition, avoiding his gaze. "Stop staring at me like that," she muttered. "It's freaking me out."

"45," Lester said. That's all he had to say.

"Yeah, I get it, alright?" Alex demanded. "You don't approve. Whatever."

"It's not that I don't approve," Lester told her. "It's the fact that Michael is forty-five and can still score girls like you." He shook his head. "I wish I were like that."

"Oh, please, Lester," Alex sighed. "Im not exactly at the prime of my youth anymore. Besides, you do not want a woman. We're not very good for a person's mental health."

"You're right," Lester agreed after a moment. "I do not envy Michael whatsoever." They reached Lester's street, and Alex pulled up in front of his house. "Come on, I'll set up the headset so we can listen in to their crew chat."

Alex followed him into the house, and Lester settled down in the wheelchair in front of his computer. Alex sat down in a chair behind him, and, a few clicks later, Lester was handing her a black earpiece. "Here," he said. "Put that in."

"Is this connected to the crew's channel?" she asked, looking down at it. Lester nodded, and she slipped it into her ear. Immediately, she could hear Franklin's voice.

"Alright, we all good?" he was asking.

"Sure," someone else replied. It was Gus, if she could remember his voice correctly.

"I think they're getting ready to go," Alex told Lester, who nodded again. He turned his head and tapped his own earpiece, which she hadn't seen him put in.

"F," he said, hitting a button on his keyboard.

"What's happening?" Franklin asked, hearing him.

"M should be close to finishing his mopping," Lester told him. "When he does, you need to be in the fire truck and ready to pick him up."

"Yeah, man, we're already there," Franklin said. "We have M's clothes ready for him and everything."

"Alright, good," Lester said. "A and I are listening into your chat, so keep it clean."

"No promises."

Lester let go of the button and turned to Alex. "If I've timed this right, they should be in and out in an hour, tops."

"That's a long time," Alex said, frowning.

"We need it to seem like they're actually trying to fight the fire," Lester explained. "It may take them an hour, or it may take them 10 minutes."

Alex could hear Franklin talking on the phone to Michael in her earpiece. He then spoke to the crew that was with him. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back over the chair she was sitting in. "This better be the end of this bullshit we have going on with the FIB," she sighed under her breath.

"I doubt it will be, A," Lester told her. "Michael signed a lifelong contract with the Feds when they helped him fake his death, and you became a partner of that contract when you told Michael that you would help him. There's no way out of this."

Alex listened to the channel as they picked up Michael, flinching when his voice could be heard as he added himself to the chat. "Hey, Alex," Lester said, drawing her attention. He looked down at the floor. "I uh - you know what, never mind."

"Lest?"

"Just… forget it, okay? I'm not going to bring this up while two of our friends are running into certain death."

Alex stared at him, but Lester didn't say anything else. She returned her attention back to the channel. They'd made it into the FIB building and were going up in the elevator to the highest floor they could reach. They came out of the elevator and went for stairs to get them higher.

"We take these up six stories," she heard Michael said. "Server room's on fifty three." Two minutes later, he spoke again, "The door's locked. F, I need you to fit a bomb and blow it open."

"We're live!" Franklin said four seconds later. "Stand back!"

Alex faintly heard an explosion, the door being blown open. "Silver drive – middle stack – far wall," Michael said.

Ten seconds. Franklin: "We got the containment drive. Come on."

There was a crash. "We don't got long!" Michael said. "Follow me."

Twenty seconds. "Oh, shit!"

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!"

"Fuck me, shit!"

Alex flinched as she heard another crash. "So much for structural integrity." _Dammit, Mikey._ "This way. Hey, hey, come on. Hurry up."

Ten more seconds, and Michael spoke again. "Door's stuck. I gotta bust it down. Stand back." Another explosion. "Franklin, see if you can get Welsh up on his feet."

"Oh no," Alex whispered, exchanging a glance with Lester.

"Ah, shit man, he's dead," Franklin said, confirming her worry.

"We can't take a corpse through this inferno," Michael said quietly. "We gotta leave him, let's go."

"Eh, man, this shit is collapsing!" Franklin exclaimed over the crashes in the background. "Damn, it's falling apart!"

"On me! On me!"

There was another explosion. "Fuck! Frankie!" Michael's voice.

"Franklin!" Alex stood up in her worry, pushing the earpiece against her ear so she could hear what was going on a bit better.

"Frank!"

"Franklin!"

"F!"

Two minutes. Three. Four.

"Frank! Frank! You alive?"

"Eh, man, kinda." Alex fell back into her chair, closing her eyes in relief. "That explosion musta knocked me out, man."

"Alright, listen, we're down a floor from you, but look out. There's a team of agents coming your way. They know we ain't firemen," Michael warned.

There was another three minutes of Franklin shouting and gunshots blasting. Alex waited with her eyes shut, praying he'd get through it all.

"I'm on fifty."

"Thank God," Alex breathed.

"There he is!" Michael said. "We're going up the rubble. On me." One minute. "Should be an elevator shaft through here, might be able to repel down it."

Thirty seconds.

"Fuck! Alright, this is our way out," Michael said. There was a crash as someone pried open the doors of the elevator. "I'll see you at street level!"

"I fucking hope so!"

Two minutes.

"Terra firma," Michael said.

"Let's get the fuck out this building, dog," Franklin exclaimed.

"Right, before it comes down on our heads," Michael agreed.

One minute.

"More fire trucks'll be here in a minute!" Michael shouted, probably to the crowd outside the building. "We tried our best in there!" Alex could hear the doors of the trucks close faintly. "Alright, to where we stashed the car, let's go."

"Alright, man, we goin'," Franklin replied.

"We all gotta change before we get there," Michael said. "At some point, an APB will go out looking for firemen, we cannot be playing dress up when that happens." A few minutes later: "We need to torch this truck as soon as possible."

"They're out, Alex," Lester said, removing his earpiece. He held out his hand, and she took hers out and gave it to him. Her hand was shaking. She shook out her arms and let out a breath.

"Jeeze, that was too much for me to handle," she decided.

"They did it, that's what matters," Lester responded.

"I can't believe it," she said after a moment. She blinked and looked at Lester. "They just robbed the FIB building. Lester!"

"Easy, we're not out of the water just yet," he said gently. "They need to get here first, and then we can celebrate."

Alex paced around in a small circle for a few minutes, gnawing on her thumbnail. "I'm gonna go wait outside," she said, going to do just that.

She opened the door to Lester's house and stepped outside just as there were headlights down the street from her. She crossed her arms, waiting. A black Emperor pulled up in front of Lester's and Michael popped out of the passenger's side.

Alex let out a relieved breath and hurried towards him. She fell into his waiting arms with a laugh, and Michael pulled her close, burying his face into her hair. "We did it, Al," he whispered. "We did it."

She pulled away from him and went around to hug Franklin too. "I thought you were dead, Frankie," she told him as he hugged her back.

"You wasn't the only one, Red," Franklin responded.

"Eh, you guys keep yo' heads down, you hear?" Gus waved at them before he climbed into the driver's seat and drove off.

Alex returned to Michael and took his hand, pulling him into Lester's house. They walked in, laughing, and found Lester sitting on his bed, frowning.

"Well," he said shortly.

Immediately, they all stopped chuckling, and Michael gazed at him. "What?"

"I never thought I'd see you clowns again," Lester said, his face serious. Alex rolled her eyes at him, and his face broke into a grin. "We did it!" he shouted, rising up off of the bed with a small jig.

"Fucking-a right we did it!" Michael agreed.

"I was listening, but how was it?" Lester asked as Franklin gave him a high five.

"For a suicidally dangerous mission impersonating emergency services while working a high security government facility, it was surprisingly uplifting!" Michael told him with a laugh. Lester chuckled, and Michael held out his arms. "Come here, give me some of that!"

He hugged Lester, who groaned in pain immediately. "Ow!" he exclaimed sharply. "Ow!" Michael released him quickly and took a step back.

"Sorry, I forgot."

"You forgot my very obvious illness?" Lester asked him as Franklin and Alex exchanged a laugh.

"Hey, it happens," Michael said.

"Yeah, whatever," Lester muttered. "Hey, let's get drunk. Franklin, fill up the glasses." He pointed to some sitting on a desk, and Franklin went over to them, lifting a jug. "Got some real vintage moonshine, hillbilly type shit. We're gonna be seeing triple and committing incest in minutes!" he said with a giggle.

"Just the shit to make a man forget his troubles," Franklin said as he finished pouring the glasses.

"Exactly," Lester agreed. Alex went over and took two, carrying one to him. "I'm just gonna get drunk as a skunk, and then I'm gonna reverse engineer a webcam and spy on those sorority girls again." Michael reemerged from the bathroom and took the glass Franklin handed him. "I'm ill okay, give me a break." Lester raised his glass. "Cheers!"

They all clinked the glasses and took their shots. Alex immediately gagged, and Franklin coughed. "Man, that's some foul ass shit!" he squeaked, bending over.

He went over to Lester's bed and sat down beside him while Michael set his glass down. "Alright, I hate to break up the ritual, but I've gotta go figure out how I'm gonna square thing up with Davey and Dickwad."

"For serious?" Lester asked him in disappointment.

"Hey, I just want them to know that now that we did this thing for 'em and that we have the evidence that we did this thing for them, we can all go our separate ways, you know?"

"Well, fuck it," Franklin said, putting down his glass. "You want me to go with you, dog?"

"No, stay, have fun." Alex started to go after him, but he held her back by putting her hands on her shoulders. "You too, Al. I gotta do this alone."

"Right now?" Lester queried as Michael pushed Alex down into his wheelchair.

"The sooner the better," Michael agreed.

"That's one way to look at it," Lester muttered, exchanging a glance with Franklin.

"Right. Besides, I want to put this shit to bed. Then I can figure out Trevor, you know? Get my life back." He walked over to pick up the jug of moonshine and carried it over to them. "Go back to being bored and miserable and loving every motherfucking minute of it." Alex gazed up at him as he refilled her glass, and he grinned. "With a few minor alterations." He handed the jug to Lester. "Here, enjoy the incest juice."

He then walked out of the room. Alex heard the door shut as Franklin said, "Man, you boys sure know how to put the fun back in mid-life crisis."

"A!" Lester drew her attention away from where Michael had gone, and she looked at him. They were both studying her. "What are you waiting for? Take the shot!" Lester exclaimed, gesturing to her glass.

She put the glass down and shook her head, standing. "I uh… I'm gonna go, boys," she told them.

"C'mon, Red," Franklin sighed. "Let Michael do his thing."

"I am," Alex said, smiling. "I'm just… I'm not letting him do it on his own." She jogged out of the house so that she would catch Michael before he left, and found him standing on the corner of Lester's street, phone in hand. "Mikey!" she called to him, jogging down the sidewalk.

He looked up as she ran up to him. "Didn't I tell you to stay?" he asked.

"I can't let you do this by yourself, and not right now," Alex told him, shaking her head. "It's late. Let it sit until morning."

Michael sighed and held up his phone. "I already called Davey. We're going to meet at the Kortz Center tomorrow."

Alex gazed at him for a moment before she nodded and hugged him. Michael returned the hug, and she hid her face in his neck. He smelled like smoke, remnants from the FIB fire they'd started.

"It's been a long day," she whispered.

"Yeah," Michael agreed. "You wanna head home?"

"Let's go," Alex said with another nod.

* * *

 **Annnnd there are probably eighty mistakes in this chapter that I didn't catch, including the overall concept of it being lame because it's mostly canon stuff. I tried my best to make it interesting from Alex's end, but I probably just made it worse.**

 **Anyhoo, the timing is probably screwy too, and not just with the mission itself, but with the driving parts and stuff.**

 **Ah well. I'm not here to be legit about everything.**

 **I'll see y'all on Monday. Love you.**


	26. Final Reparations

**That's right, pre-edited chapters are the best. Mmhm.**

 **Well, really, it's not the best chapter, but it's up there with the good ones.**

 **Anyhow, I'm ill, unfortunately. This is not how I was planning on spending my Monday, especially when I hate missing school, as much as I hate school itself, but I needed to upload the chapter, so I dragged my sorry rearend out of bed long enough to do so. Merry Monday and all that jazz.**

 **princessstark: Listen, homie, even if your reviews are generic, I'll take them over not getting any reviews at all. I appreciate them very much, so keep them coming! Thank you for sticking with the Fiction.**

* * *

Alex blinked her eyes open and yawned widely. She started to sit up to stretch, but found that she couldn't move, else disturb the embrace she was locked in.

She smirked to herself when she remembered what had occurred when she and Michael had returned the night before. They'd been so exhausted, Michael had fallen asleep on the couch, her already asleep on his chest.

She adjusted herself slightly so that she could look at him. Michael's face was peaceful, and he was snoring quietly, not loud enough to cause a disturbance. She'd never been so content in her life, just to stay where she was in his arms, and never move again.

Unfortunately, her small adjustment was enough to stir Michael, and one of his eyes opened slightly. When he saw her looking at him, he smiled sleepily.

"Morning, Al," he greeted.

"Hi."

His arms tightened around her slightly, and she turned her head so that her cheek was resting against his chest and she was looking at the TV. "What time is it, do you think?" he asked her.

"Dunno," she responded. "Why?"

"I told Davey I'd meet him at 10."

"Davey can wait," Alex responded, refusing to move.

Michael didn't let her go, either. "Alex…" He let out a breath, and she knew what he was going to say before he said it. "You can't come with me to the Kortz Center."

"What if something happens?" Alex asked him. "What if…" She couldn't bring herself to say it. Instead, she shook her head and hid her face in his shirt. "No, I have to go with you."

"The whole reason I'm not bringing you is in case something happens," Michael said softly. "I'm not going to put you in a situation we might not get out of."

"They won't hurt you if I'm there," Alex mumbled. "Davey won't let Haines do anything if you're with me."

"Al -"

"I'm not letting you up until you agree to take me with you."

They lay in silence for a few minutes until Michael sighed and stirred beneath her. Alex steeled herself, going limp. Michael grunted as ten pounds was added to her weight. "Alex, I have to go."

"No."

"Al, do you want me to get out of this FIB thing or not?" She didn't answer, and Michael moved again. She tried to stay in one place to keep him still, but Michael wasn't having it. He rolled her to the right, and she found herself pressed against the back of the couch as Michael slipped out from beneath her and onto the floor.

Alex gazed at him sadly, and Michael shook his head at her, standing up. "Stay here," he said quietly. "I have to go change first, and then I'm heading out."

He walked out of the living room, and Alex sat up, pushing back her hair. Huffing, she stuck out her lower lip and gazed around the living room. She knew that Michael going alone to the Kortz Center would only end badly. She had to make sure he was safe, but not let him know it.

She suddenly got an idea. It was possibly the worst idea ever, and there was no guarantee that it would work. Slowly, she pulled out her phone and typed in the first 6 digits of a phone number, hesitating a second before she hit the final number and the call button.

She lifted the phone to her ear, and the person she'd called answered on the first ring. "Alex."

"Hey, Trevor," she said, glancing in the direction of the stairs. "Listen, I uh… I need you to do something for me."

"Sure, princess," he said immediately. "What is it?"

"C-Can you bring a sniper rifle and meet me at the Kortz Center as soon as possible?"

"The Kortz Center? What the fuck for?" She didn't answer immediately, because she heard Michael starting to come back down the stairs.

"I can't explain it right now," she whispered quickly. "Just do this for me, okay?"

"Alright," he agreed after a moment. "I'll meet you there."

"Thanks, T," she said. "I'll see you soon." She hung up the phone just as Michael came back into the living room wearing new clothes. His shoulders rose and fell as he looked at her, and she held out her arms. "Don't you have someplace to be?" she queried.

"Alex, please don't be angry," he said, starting towards her.

She shook her head and held up her hand. "Don't. Just go, Michael."

"Al -"

"Go, before I change my mind."

Michael bowed his head and walked out of the living room without saying anything more. Alex waited for the sound of his car; which they'd retrieved the night before, pull out of the driveway before she stood up to get there herself. Maybe she'd get there before Trevor did, and have time to explain what was going on before Michael's meeting went south.

Unfortunately, the driver of the cab she'd taken was in no mood to break the law, and she had to sit quietly in the backseat, tapping her nail against the back of the seat in front of her, annoyed at how slow he was going. Just when she was sure she couldn't take it any longer, the cab pulled up in front of the Kortz Center.

Alex clambered out, handing the guy a twenty for shitty service, and hobbled towards the entrance. She passed Michael's car as she walked, and stopped to do a quick look around for Dave's. It was nowhere in sight. He wasn't there yet.

Thanking the high heavens, she was about to fall against the wall when she heard someone blasting away a tune on the horn of their car, a horn she recognized as the Bodhi's. She looked up and saw Trevor pulling into a parking spot. He hopped out of the car, a rifle in hand, and jogged over to her.

"Hey, princess!" he greeted cheerfully.

"Trevor." She glanced past him and paled. Dave's ugly little car was pulling into the parking lot. She grabbed Trevor's arm and tugged him inside the Kortz Center. "Come on," she urged, glancing around.

"What are we doing here?" Trevor asked her.

"Just -" She saw a tall building to their left, and she pushed Trevor in the direction of it. "We need to get up to the roof."

"Why?"

"Go," she commanded, pushing him harder. "I'll explain when we get up there."

Trevor gave her a look, but he did as she asked, going into the building. Alex scurried after him, and up a set of stairs inside. They climbed up and up until they reached a door with a small window built into it, daylight coming through. Trevor pushed it open onto the roof, and Alex hurried outside, running to the edge.

She scanned the Center, looking for Michael. "Where are you?" she whispered.

"Where's who?" Trevor queried from behind her.

Alex let out a breath. "Trevor, I called you and asked you to come here because I think Michael's in trouble," she said. Trevor didn't say anything in response, and she didn't turn to look at him. "We… we did a job, to get us out of this FIB situation for good, and he came here to settle it. But… Lester doesn't think they're going to let him walk, and I don't either. We're here to make sure that if things go sour, we can help him."

"And why, pray tell, would I want to help him?" Trevor growled.

"The Union Depository." Trevor was silent. "You know you can't do it without Michael, and if he's dead, you won't be able to do it at all. I figure that you save him, and we can hit the UD as soon as Lester says." Alex glanced over her shoulder at him, and saw that he was studying the ground. "Please, T. If you won't do it for Michael, do it for me."

Before Trevor could respond, she heard shouting. Alex turned back around, her breath catching in her throat. She saw Michael, Dave, Steve and the other FIB guy all standing with their guns pointed at one another.

"Trevor…"

A group of agents ran up, all holding guns, and then a group of people wearing black. Trevor came up next to her, lifting the rifle in the direction of the group just as a helicopter appeared. "Fucking Merryweather," Trevor cursed.

A shot was fired, and Steve fell. Another shot, and then all hell broke loose. Alex threw up her hands and paced around in a circle. "I fucking knew it!"

She jumped as Trevor pulled the trigger of his rifle, and she hurried back to the edge of the building. He'd shot the pilot of the Merryweather helicopter, and the chopper was spiraling downwards. It hit the ground in a fiery explosion, and Alex wrapped her arms around Trevor.

"Thank you!" she squeaked.

Trevor ignored her, and instead waved his hand. "Hey!" he shouted. Alex looked down and saw Michael standing across the plaza from them. "If anyone's gonna kill you old friend, it's gonna be me!"

"Hey!" Michael called back. "You here to finish the job, T?"

"Nah, nah, nah," Trevor responded. "I'm just here for the opportunity! Now run!" Alex backed away to give Trevor space, but kept her eye on Michael as he ducked behind a pole.

"T!" he shouted, leaning around the pole. "Dave's down there; protect him!"

"The guy that iced Brad, and would ice me, needs my help!" Trevor laughed. "How wonderful."

"Trevor," Alex said, looking at him. "Davey's my half-brother. Please keep him alive."

"What?" Trevor demanded.

"Trevor!" Michael shouted.

Trevor returned his attention to shooting. Alex didn't know what to do, so she paced nervously near the edge of the building, watching Michael all the while. He ran down from the upper level into the courtyard and joined Dave. The two of them worked their way towards the back entrance of the Kortz Center while Trevor shot down a group of Merryweather that were coming out of another building with rifles of their own.

"What are Merryweather doing at the party?" he asked.

Alex glanced at him. "I dunno," she said. "You're the one who's been attacking them. Michael and the FIB had nothing to do with it."

"Don't tell me you're siding with the suits on this, Alex," Trevor growled. "I may just put a bullet in Michael after all."

"Don't threaten me, Trevor," Alex warned.

"Ah, so you do have some sort of weird infatuation for him!" Trevor exclaimed. "I knew it all along!" He leaned out over the edge of the building, all of the enemy types now dead. "Hey Mikey! Before you disappear, we need to have a conversation!"

"So conversate!" Michael's voice yelled back.

"Not here!" Trevor shouted. "Meet me behind the pawn shop in Morningwood! You can have Alex back, and we can discuss payment for me saving your ass!" Trevor turned to Alex. "C'mon, let's race him!"

They ran out of the Kortz Center and climbed into Trevor's truck. They didn't speak on the ride to Morningwood, and they got there before Michael did. Trevor laughed as he climbed out of the truck. "We won!"

Michael pulled around a few minutes later. Alex ran towards him as he approached, and Michael scooped her up in a tight hug, lifting her from the ground.

"You should have listened to me," she mumbled, unable to say anything more because she felt tears burning her throat.

"Yeah, I know," he responded, setting her back down but not releasing her from his hug.

"Excuse you?" Trevor spoke. "Yeah, hi. I'm here, so if you could save your creepy relationship thing for after I'm gone, it would be appreciated."

"Yeah, well, excuse me if I want to hug her after being caught in a three way fire fight between two government agencies and a militia," Michael replied, looking at Trevor from over Alex's head. "Y'know, it made me think I might die and never get too see her again, so."

"Okay, but at least you're still, alive, right, because we need you, Mikey boy," Trevor told him. "I mean, y'know, at least for now. Unless of course you have another surprise for me. Maybe something to do with another inappropriate friendship?"

"Okay, that wasn't exactly Dave's fault," Michael said in defense of Alex's half-brother.

"No, no, he's just the friendly face of a corrupt government agency looking to further his career by dealing with an equally corrupt and full to the fucking brim with bullshit low rent hood!" Trevor shouted. "And he's princess's brother, but that don't make him a fucking prince!"

"Half-brother," Alex said weakly, hiding her face in Michael's chest.

"Listen, Trevor," Michael started, "I want to thank-"

"I wanted to thank, yeah I've been meaning to tell ya, y'know…" Trevor mocked him before Michael could finish. "What, homie? What have you been meaning to tell me? Huh? That you stabbed me in the back? Or that you were, and always will be, a worthless wretch who deserves to be put under?"

"So what the fuck did you save me for, then?" Michael demanded.

"You know why."

Michael immediately stiffened, and Alex looked up to see he was shaking his head. "No, no, no."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Trevor argued. "One. Last. Score!"

"Alex, we didn't-"

"Alex ain't got nothing to do with this, okay? I was starting to think to myself, y'know, how am _I_ , a one man drug lord, gonna pull off the biggest heist that has ever been attempted? And I realized that I couldn't, y'know, not without the help of my squad! But, because I didn't know if squadron leader was alive, I started to think that it wasn't gonna happen." Trevor gestured to Alex with his hands. "That's when A comes in. She calls and tells me to meet her at the Kortz Center with a rifle. I, confused but starting to get an idea, agree, because I feel like I owe her for sending you to your imminent death, but also because of the Union Depository."

Michael started to laugh, and Trevor held out his arm. "And if it goes good, guess what? I don't have to put a little bullet in your head. But! If it goes bad, that's okay too, because then you and I get to go to hell, and I get to spend the rest of eternity tormenting you while Franklin and Alex and Lester watch!"

Michael stopped laughing, and he let out a breath, finally letting Alex go. "Well," he said, "I guess it's on, then."

"Yeah, I guess it is," Trevor agreed. "Call Lester, let's go. On speaker phone."

Michael pulled out his phone and dialed a number. It rang twice before Lester picked up. "Hey, it's me," Michael said.

"I know," Lester replied through the speaker. "How'd it go?"

"Just fabulous," Michael replied. "Ran into an old friend. Matter of fact, he saved my ass."

"Ooh, we're all friends now," Lester mused. "I suppose a group hug's out of the question?"

"He wants to uh… Still go on the final victory tour," Michael explained.

"Alright," Lester said, "when it looks like it's a go, I'll contact you. And remember this, gentlemen and lady -" How he'd known Alex was there, she could only guess. "- if we pull this off, we will be making history. Sordid, nasty, depraved history, but history nonetheless."

"Alright." Michael hung up the phone and gestured to Trevor with it. "There. Ya happy?"

Trevor lifted his arms. "Fucking thrilled." He started to walk away towards the Bodhi, pointing at him. "Don't forget, amigo, I'm keeping my eye on you, so keep you dick away."

"Yeah," Michael sighed. He and Alex watched Trevor climbed into his truck and drive away before they looked at one another. Michael shook his head and laughed shortly. "I can't believe you."

"What, I wasn't about to let you do that on your own," Alex replied. "You forget, I know Davey. He was always doing whatever he could to get further in whatever he was doing, whether it be a sports team or a grade list or… his career."

Michael cupped her face in one of his hands. "I should have just listened to you," he said.

"Yeah, you should have," Alex agreed. She reached up and put a hand on the back of his neck to pull his lips down to hers. She kissed him momentarily before she let him go. "C'mon, let's go get some breakfast. I'm starving."

She and Michael climbed into his car, and Alex was about to pull her seatbelt on when her phone rang. She reached into her pocket and pulled out, lifting an eyebrow. "Franklin?"

"Red, listen, you with Michael right now?" he asked quickly.

"Yeah, why?" she questioned, glancing sideways at him.

"Listen, Lamar's up at some sawmill near Paleto Bay, 'bout to get his ass handed to him by some Ballas. I need you an' Mike to meet me and Trevor up there," Franklin said.

"We gotta drive all the way up to Paleto Bay to save Lamar's stupid ass?"

"What else is new?"

Alex sighed. "Alright, fine, we'll be there soon."

"Thanks, Red, and hey, tell M thank you, too." Alex hung up her phone and looked at Michael, but he was already nodding.

"Yeah, Paleto Bay's sawmill, I got it," he said, pulling onto the road.

"Fuckin' Lamar." Alex shook her head. "Dumbass." She loved him, but sometimes, he was stupid.

* * *

 **We all love Lamar, even if he's sometimes stupid, right?**

 **Question for the Day: Is Lamar the one you love to hate, or the one you hate to love?**

 **God, I need to go back to bed. Toodle-ooo, friendships.**


	27. The Lead Up

***sigh***

 **Before you start reading, I should type out a PSA:**

 **Most of the shit in this chapter is shit that actually happens in the game, and the rest of the shit is just that: shit.**

 **Thank you for reading this PSA, and I am sorry that's it's so awful.**

 **Deson9t9: Y'know what? I don't know. I'm a little iffy on those kinds of moments, because they clearly demonstrate that an OC is in fact overpowered, and I've been doing my damndest not to make any of my OCs overpowered...  
Plus, I don't like writing fight/action scenes, as will be exhibited by this chapter. **

**princessstark: Thank you, I am indeed feeling better, and the three day weekend coming up is making me even happier. And it gives me extra time to mess around with the new update. Hopefully, _hopefully_ , my brother doesn't decide he wants to take it over and play on his own. **

* * *

They made it up to the woods outside of the sawmill before Franklin did, but Trevor was already there, holding a pair of binoculars. He lowered them as they pulled up, and let out a sigh. "Why're you here?" he asked as they walked over to him.

"Franklin called," Alex responded, putting her hand over her eyes so she'd be able to see the sawmill without a glare. "What's going on?"

"Place is loaded with Ballas," Trevor told her, handing her the binoculars. She put them to her eyes and saw that he was right; the purple of the opposing gang was visible all over the place. "The way I see it, we can ambush 'em, or we can try to scope 'em all out from here and then run in to get Lamar when they're all dead."

Franklin pulled up then, and Trevor took back the binoculars and walked over to him, "Hey, why'd you invite this stoolie, huh?" he asked, pointing to Michael. "We want Lamar to be rescued, not sold to the Feds."

"Give it a rest, asswipe," Michael growled, reaching into Trevor's Bodhi and grabbing the rifle from earlier.

"Man, would y'all two shut the fuck up?" Franklin asked. He snatched the binoculars from Trevor. "Now let's take a look at this place, man." He put them against his eyes. "Lester said this was some type of big weed storage spot."

"Place is crawling with Ballas, you know," Trevor told him. "Now, me and you, we don't mind the old gang warfare, and Alex can probably handle it, but suede bucks over there…" He started to make whining noises to mock Michael.

Michael tapped Franklin on the shoulder. "Hey, tell Trevor I said "bite me"."

"Man, I said shut up!" Franklin exclaimed. Michael and Trevor exchanged a glare as Franklin gazed towards the sawmill. "Now, I see the weed, but where the fuck is Lamar?" Alex could faintly see the small figures of three people in the distance. "Oh shit, there he go," Franklin said, confirming what she was seeing.

"You know what, tell Trevor I'm gonna be up on this hill with my rifle," Michael said, heading away from them. "I don't wanna be anywhere around him when he fucks this whole thing up."

"Michael!" Alex exclaimed, but he didn't stop walking. She huffed and shook her head, turning to Franklin. "What're we doing?"

Trevor walked over to his truck and pulled out an assault rifle before running up the path towards the sawmill. "I'm gonna find a way in!" he called over his shoulder.

Franklin rolled his eyes and handed Alex an earpiece. She put it in, clicking it on as she did so, and took the pistol Franklin held out to her. "There's a few ways into this place," Michael was saying. "One – the front entrance on the right there. It's the most direct way in, and most likely the heaviest."

"That's where I'm going," Trevor said. "Direct assault."

"I'ma get in position," Franklin said to her, jogging away to do just that. Alex remained where she was to wait for him to get wherever he was going.

She saw him stop next to Trevor, and she said, "Listen, you guys take 'em head on. I'm gonna find a way in from behind and hit them with a back attack."

"Hey, be careful Red," Franklin warned. "We ain't gonna be able to watch you while we're hittin' 'em from the front."

"Don't worry about me," she responded, eyeing the bulldozer she'd seen when Michael had pulled up. "I have an idea."

She started to jog for the big yellow vehicle. "We attack on your signal, Frank," Michael told him.

"Then we goin', dog!" Franklin said. Alex glanced over her shoulder and saw him and Trevor run into the sawmill, guns a blazing.

Alex shook her head to herself as she reached the bulldozer, and she climbed up into it after sliding the pistol into the back of her jeans. She wasn't sure how to control the thing, but she didn't think it would be hard.

She turned the key just as she heard Trevor shout "Chamberlain Gang Families for life, motherfuckers!"

Laughing, Alex pulled free the brake that the bulldozer had and took the wheel in her hands. "I have no idea how to drive this thing," she said, not really talking to the others, but they must have heard her.

"What thing?" Franklin asked.

"Alex, no," Michael sighed.

"What's she doing?" Trevor questioned.

Alex drove the bulldozer through the opening at the side of the sawmill. "This is how we do drivebys in the back country! Yeehaw!" she shouted above the gun shots as she mowed down a wave of Ballas.

"A!" Franklin exclaimed. Trevor laughed as she climbed down off of it and joined them, shooting down a Balla as she went.

"You're learning!" he praised, sparing three seconds to give her a noogie.

Franklin ran up through the opening and towards the main building of the sawmill, saying, "Lamar! It's me, dog! Let's get outta here."

"Oh, fancy seein' you here, motherfucker!" Lamar exclaimed, running after him back towards Trevor and Alex.

Trevor waved at him. "Alright, Lamar! Let's go!"

Together, the four of them headed back towards the entrance, shooting down the fresh wave of Ballas as they went. A spare rifle bullet saved Alex from a gunshot in the knee, and she waved in Michael's direction. "Thanks, Mikey!"

"Keep going!" he urged.

Trevor shot down the last Balla, and he waved towards the car he'd clambered out of. "Alright, you three!" he said, ushering them towards it. "Go, go, go!"

"T -" He pushed Alex into the back seat before she could argue, and Lamar and Franklin climbed into the front two.

"Get out of here," Trevor told them.

"Hey, T, you gotta tell the guys up at the strip club that yo' boy Long Dick drink for free!" Lamar called out the window as Franklin drove away from the sawmill.

He settled back into his seat, and Franklin looked over at him. "Shit, homie. You alright?"

"I'm straight, homie. Bitches got the jump on me, though," Lamar responded.

Alex reached up and whacked him on the head. "Fuckin' dumbass! What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I was thinking business, Red," Lamar responded, rubbing the spot she'd hit with his hand.

"How'd they convince you to come all the way out here?" Franklin asked, pulling around a sharp corner that made Alex slide along the length of the backseat. Once she'd righted herself, she put her seatbelt on.

"Man, I ain't fin to let a little drive stand in the way of a money making opportunity," Lamar explained.

"Or a get killed opportunity," Franklin said.

"Man, you always a pessimist."

"Nah, nigga, a realist. 'Cause in reality, all them fools wanna clap yo' ass," Franklin told him.

Lamar gaped at him. "Man, where the trust at, dog? I peeped out that wood chopping place when we was up this way on that Devin Weston car lick, which I still ain't been paid for, incidentally – all secluded and shit. Stretch hit me up, I'm like yeah, that's the perfect place to buy kush by the bizale."

"Nigga, perfect place to clap some fool you beefing with!" Franklin exclaimed.

"Man, I ain't even know it at the time. I just thought we was going to parley."

"Parley?" Franklin sounded incredulous. "Nigga, please. Every time you leave the house, fools tryin' to clap you. Every meet you set up, homies there for the express purpose of clapping your ass."

"Man, you sure?" Lamar asked. "Because I'm sure there's been a few times -"

"No. I'm complete a hundred percent sure. Every time, nigga," Franklin replied. "Right, Red?"

"As long as I've known him, yeah."

"Whether you buying drugs, selling drugs, or discussing drugs. Talking about the weather or whatever," Franklin went on.

Lamar shook his head. "Man, these streets is hard, dog. This the hood you talking about. Maybe you forgot 'cause you been uh… Bettering yourself. Sitting in that house on the hill, looking down at the animals in South Central and shit."

"Man, you know it ain't like that," Franklin sighed.

"Do I, my nigga? Because that's the way it looks to me. I'm making the best out of what I'm given, you know what I'm talkin' about? I ain't in some type of mentorship program. Only mentor I got -"

Franklin cut him off. "And we going to do something about that, dog. Trust me."

"Man, I ain't got people teaching me that white collar crime shit like you. Ain't shit changed for me, and you ain't helping," Lamar muttered.

"Ain't helping? What the fuck you call this?" Franklin demanded. Lamar didn't respond instantly. "Me, Michael, Trevor and Alex – We all came up here to help you."

"You and them old dudes like the unholy fucking trinity, right? Ballas beware when these fools rolling together. And then when the Red Angel come in with the bulldozer, shit man! You better be prayin'!"

"Are you jealous of Michael and Trevor?" Franklin asked him.

"What happened to me and you fucking shit up? Forum Gangsters, nigga?"

"So, I shouldn'ta called them, right? Man, I was doing everything in my power to make sure you wasn't clapped," Franklin said.

"I can make sure I ain't clapped," Lamar told him.

"Clearly, you can't," Franklin replied.

"Next time, homie, don't come. And matter of fact, if you do come, don't bring them dudes," Lamar said. "Don't bring Red into it, either. She's too delicate for this shit."

"Hey!"

"Man, look, let's not talk next time," Franklin put in before Alex could hit him again. "Next time, don't get your ass in the situation." Lamar shook his head again. "Alright?"

"It's the hood, Frank. That's what happens in the hood," Lamar said.

"No the fuck it don't," Franklin said. "Not for everyone."

"I'm one of them dudes it happens too," Lamar mumbled after a moment.

There was a silence for a few moments, and then Franklin glanced at Lamar as they went under a tunnel. "Man, you gonna tell me what the fuck was happenin' back there?"

"Hood shit, homie. That's the shit that's different from the Country Club shit your overpaid ass is presently accustomed to," Lamar responded sourly.

"Man, Stretch put us on this shit, man. Man, we gonna get on his ass," Franklin said to change the subject.

"Man, fuck that homie!" Lamar exclaimed. "Look like I give a shit?"

"Nigga, I give a shit."

"Stretch do what he do. Niggas want me dead be dead themselves. I ain't goin' overeat to shit," Lamar said.

"Overreact?" Franklin asked. "Man, that nigga Stretch tried to get you killed, nigga!"

"Nigga, that's the hood!" Lamar repeated. "I'm still here, ain't I?"

"Just."

"You sure Stretch knew they was goin' to close the book on me?" Lamar queried.

"Yeah, nigga, Stretch knew. Everybody knew Stretch knew," Franklin answered. "Tanisha knew Stretch knew, and she don't even come around the fucking hood no more."

"Damn, that nigga Stretch janky like that?" Lamar asked.

"Man, you don't see this? Man, Stretch been screwing us from the start!" Franklin told him.

"From like back in the day?"

"From like the other day, dog." Lamar looked at him funny, and Franklin waved his hand. "Since after we went to the recycling place and D and all them Ballas tried to take us down."

"But Stretch put in the work on D," Lamar argued.

"Yeah, man, that's survival! Remember how angry his ass got? Especially with you bringing him into this shit," Franklin said.

"Alright, alright, but tell me this though," Lamar started, holding up his hands. "If Stretch was fucking with you boy LD, why he set us up with the deal for the brick in the first place? He go off and make peace with the Ballas, come back, and then puts us in a lick on Grove Street."

"Man, you remember Grove Street?" Franklin asked him.

"It was drywall," Alex supplied, remembering what had happened herself.

"Ripping us off was probably Stretch's idea," Franklin concluded.

"Damn, you think so?" Lamar questioned.

"It makes sense, don't it?"

"Man, I don't even know man. Maybe," Lamar grumbled.

"Man, Stretch got in with the Ballas when he was inside, played us as marks, dog, but a bunch of them got booked. So now they gotta come back at us. So Stretch sends you out there when they doing a kush deal-"

"Then you show up to save the day," Lamar muttered in conclusion.

"Yeah, thankfully!" Franklin agreed.

"Man, it wouldn't even be the same if you boy LD wasn't out here getting into shit. And FC wasn't getting him out of it," Lamar said. "Know what I'm talking about?"

Franklin scoffed, but he was smiling. "Man, I don't know."

"Man, shit was fun, nigga. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy scrappin' like we did back in the day." Lamar poked him in the arm as Franklin pulled up in front of his house in Strawberry. Alex hadn't even noticed they'd gotten back so fast.

The three of them climbed out of the car, and Lamar chuckled, slapping Franklin on the shoulder. "I guess what we learnt is nigga don't think it ain't no fun to be had fucking with the homies, nigga. You feel me, my nigga?"

Franklin had to chuckle himself. "Yeah, I guess you can put it like that."

"Hey, but also on some real shit, my nigga," Lamar said, glancing around. "You know your nigga out here doing B-A-D man." He leaned closer to Franklin and muttered, "Why don't you slide me a few dollars or somethin'."

Franklin sniffed and pulled out some money. "Ah, shit, my nigga, that's nothin'."

He handed Lamar the cash, and he counted it out. "Damn, man. I mean, way to keep a nigga down, my nigga. I mean, thank you, I guess." He looked up at Franklin. "It's payment for a nigga gettin' you them cars and shit. Give a nigga just enough money to get him a little forty ounce and a bucket of chicken on his way to the poor house, huh?"

"Man, don't be like that, dog. 'Cause number one, I never got paid for them motherfuckin' cars. Number two, I saved your motherfucking ass." Franklin pushed Lamar backwards a little bit. Alex let out a breath, ready to get between them. "No matter how many times you and that tiny motherfuckin' brain of yours tried to get us killed, I saved you, dog."

"Man, you supposed too, my nigga," Lamar exclaimed. "I thought we was homies for life?"

"Me too, but I thought we was tryin' to get out of this bullshit!" Franklin replied, holding out his arms. "You live in a fantasy, homie. The best thing you can hope for is a big turnout for your motherfuckin' funeral."

"Nigga, ain't nobody coming to your funeral!" Lamar retorted.

"What? Man, what about all the motherfuckin' times I saved your life, homie?" Franklin asked him. "What about that?"

"Oh, thank you, homie," Lamar scoffed. "Thanks for leaving your nigga in the back field."

Franklin studied him for a moment. Alex watched him, waiting.

"You know what, my nig?" he asked at last. "If your ass can just act civilized, you would get some work. But instead you wanna be this gangbanging mad dogging asshole."

"Oh, my bad Mr. Gold Card," Lamar said, waving his arms up and down. "Excuse me, sir, thank ya for helping out a poor street nigga like me, sir. You can go now, sir. Thank ya. Thank ya." He shook his head. "Nigga, who you think I am, nigga?"

"Well, fuck you, Lamar," Franklin said, waving his hand.

"Nah, fuck you, F nigga. I thought we was homies, nigga. But that's some shit that just got past you, my nigga."

"You know what, dog? If somethin' good comes up, I hit my dude, man. Chill out, alright?"

Lamar shook his head. "Yeah, whatever, nigga. You just hit me when you find out what the true concept of friendship is, nigga. We came from the sandbox together."

"I know that," Franklin said. "I got you, dog. If somet' good come up, I got you. C'mon, Red." He walked away from Lamar, and Alex waved to him before following.

"Yeah, whatever, nigga," Lamar called after them. "I'm in the turf, nigga, if you remember where that is."

They walked around Lamar's garage just to be ambushed by the last two people Alex expected to see. She gasped and jumped behind Franklin as Steve Haines and Davey appeared before them.

"Whoa!" Steve said. "What's up, playa?"

"Hello, Franklin," Dave greeted. "Alex."

"Man, I don't know y'all," Franklin said.

"And I know one of you too damn well," Alex added.

"We done," Franklin insisted, trying to walk away.

"Hey, we ain't done yet, homies," Steve said before they could. "Not yet."

"Nearly," Dave assured, glancing at Alex.

She leaned closer to Franklin's ear and whispered, "This is the thing we talked about before, I fucking bet you fifty dollars."

Franklin huffed and stepped towards the two FIB agents. "Man, what the fuck y'all want us to do?"

"Not "us"," Steve told him. He pointed at Franklin. "You."

"Me? What is it, then? Kill the president, fuck his wife or somethin'? Or invade some fuckin' country?"

"No, no, something more sensible," Steve responded.

"Something's that's gotta be done," Dave added.

 _Sure,_ Alex thought to herself with an eye roll.

"Hey, when the timing's right, you're gonna take old Trevor and put him out to the pasture, homie," Steve told Franklin.

"See, Michael will be sensible, but Trevor… Trevor won't be," Dave explained.

"Trevor is a liability that none of us can afford," Steve put in.

"Man, Trevor saved you," Franklin exclaimed.

"Both of you," Alex said, glaring at Dave.

"And it's unfortunate," he said.

"Hey, when we give the word, you're gonna do this thing," Steve told him, pushing against Franklin's shoulder. He looked at Alex. "And you're not going to say anything about this to Michael, or to Trevor, because if you do..." He drew a finger across his neck. Alex merely glared at him with her arms crossed, even though she knew he wasn't lying.

Without another word, they climbed into their car and drove off. Franklin glanced at Alex. "Fuck!"

"Hey, who was that?" Lamar asked, coming around the corner.

"Don't worry about it, nigga," Franklin said, pulling on Alex's arm. "C'mon, Red."

"Old flossin' ass nigga," Lamar said from behind them.

"What the fuck are we gonna do?" Alex asked him as they headed down the street, pausing in front of Franklin's old house.

"I ain't killin' Trevor," Franklin muttered. "That much is fo' sure."

"Michael already knows," Alex said. "I told him before."

"Shit," Franklin exclaimed. "Next thing that's gon' happen is somebody gon' ask you to clip _his_ ass."

"Or somebody asks one of them to kill you," Alex sighed, shaking her head.

"What's gonna happen, Red?" Franklin asked as his phone binged. He pulled it out and read the text message he'd just received. "Whoa!"

"What?" Alex asked.

"Did Michael tell you about his movie premiere?" Franklin queried, tilting the phone so that she could read it.

Alex scanned the text, which was from Jimmy, and saw that, indeed, there was a premiere for the movie he and Solomon had been working on.

"No," she muttered, "but it explains what I saw on the news yesterday." She shook her head. "It's happening tonight, I guess."

Her own phone blipped, and she pulled it out. It was a text from Michael: _When you're done with Frank, head home and get fancy. We have a premiere to go too. I'm meeting Jimmy at Ponsonbys so that I can get a tux, and we'll meet you at the theater, alright?_

"Shit," Alex sighed. "Last minute much, isn't it, Mikey?" She put her phone away and slapped Franklin's hand. "I'll see you later. I gotta go get ready."

"Alright, hit me if you hear anything else about this Trevor thing," Franklin called after her as she pulled open the door on a car sitting by the curb.

"You too," she responded, hotwiring it and then driving away from him up the road. "A movie premiere, huh? My lifelong dream. Too bad I'm not in it."

* * *

 **Again, I apologize for this chapter. It was more just a lead up to what's happening in the next chapter, which, if I'm not mistaken, is mostly my own writing! That's not shit! Whoohoo!**

 **Now, I have to go finish getting ready for school, but I'll see y'all on Monday. If it's also Labor Day weekend for any of my readers, have a nice time with your families or however you're celebrating, even if you're just gonna lay in your computer chair and play video games, because Lord knows that's how I'm gonna be celebrating.**

 **Adios!**


	28. Meltdown (In More Ways than One)

**Doop-buh-doo.**

 **Hey, how's it going? I'm just gonna post this real quick and get back to writing the stuff that isn't based on something that's already been created. I am on a roll, children! A roll!**

 **awolfnamedThaliaJackson: My sentiments exactly.**

 **Guest: Well... they haven't done "it". Not yet, anyhow. But yes, as of the chapter titled "Fruition, Fruition, Fruition!", Michael and Alex are indeed in a relationship. Technically, anyhow.**

* * *

Alex's wardrobe didn't contain anything "fancy". She had to settle for a black, floor length, skin tight dress, which wasn't the most exciting thing, but it was all she had. She was finishing her makeup just as she heard something outside of Michael's house.

She frowned and stood up, closing the lipstick she'd just been applying. She quietly snuck out of the bathroom and peeked over the bannister. She saw a dark shadow looming outside of the front door, blocking out the lights from the street.

"Oh shit," she cursed, running back into the bathroom and shutting the door just as three big men in black outfits burst through the front door. She locked the door, closing her eyes and leaning against it.

"Search the house!" she heard one command. "Mr. Weston said that someone should be here, some redhead that De Santa's taken a liking too."

Alex swallowed as she heard thumping on the stairs, and then someone was shaking the handle of the bathroom. She suppressed a squeak when they realized it was locked and started to bang on the door.

"Hey, open the door!" the man on the other side shouted.

"Not on your life, jackass!" Alex responded. She reached for her curling iron, which had been sitting and getting hot so she could curl her hair. She held it up, ready to burn the person that kicked in the door, which was shaking with the force of someone trying to bust it open.

A few kicks more, and the door flew inwards. Alex blindly threw her curling iron into the face of the big guy that came through. He shrieked and put his hands on his face, falling against the wall. Alex scurried past him, only to be grabbed by someone else on the second floor.

She screamed and twisted in his grasp, trying to bite him or something, but he had a firm grip on her. "I can see why De Santa likes this one so much!" he mused to his buddy, who'd run up the stairs as well. "She's feisty!"

"Screw you, you ugly piece of shit!" Alex screeched, trying to pull away from him. The guy threw her against the wall, and her head hit it, hard. Alex's vision went black for an instant, and she shook her head to get it back.

When she did, she was face to face with the guy. He was grinning wickedly, and she saw that he was missing some of his yellowed teeth. "Tell me," he started, trying to pull up the edge of her dress, "do you genuinely care about him, or does he pay you to suck his dick?"

His friends laughed as Alex spat some blood into his face. "Fuck you," she growled.

The guy snarled and ripped her dress up to her thigh. "Stop laughing," he commanded the others, "or I won't let you play with her when I'm done."

Alex twisted and turned, but she couldn't move. Closing her eyes, she waited for it to come. Instead, the heavy weight that was pressed against her disappeared as there was a gunshot. There was some more gunfire and shouting, and Alex slid down the wall, covering her face with her hands.

She heard heavy thumps as bodies fell to the ground, and then there were arms wrapped around her. She started to fight against them, weakly, but Michael's voice was in her ear: "Al, it's alright," he soothed. "I'm here. It's okay. You're okay."

"Michael," she cried, hiding her face in his chest. He held her close to him, rocking her gently.

"Shh, it's okay," he said quietly. "It's okay. They're gone."

"Dad?" She heard Jimmy's voice. "Is Alex okay?"

"She's fine, Jim," Michael told him. "Where's Tracey?"

"She's not here," Jimmy responded. "She texted and said that she couldn't come; something about a date."

Michael let out a relieved breath and pulled Alex closer. "It's alright, Al," he repeated gently. "They won't be touching you again."

Alex sucked back more tears and wiped her eyes, shaking her head. "Fucking-a right they're not," she muttered, pulling back to look at him. "Fucking Merryweather. Devin Weston sent them."

"I know," Michael replied. "The fucker showed up at the theater and had the gall to tell me what he'd done."

"I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch," Alex swore.

"Not if I get to him first," Michael told her. Alex let out a breath and closed her eyes when she felt her tears coming back. Michael reached forward and pulled her back against him. "I'm sorry, Alex," he said quietly. "This is my fault."

"No, it's not," Alex whispered. "It's nobody's fault." She hesitated. "Steve Haines asked Franklin to kill Trevor earlier, after we'd dropped off Lamar."

"Fuck." Michael rested his chin on the top of her head. "Everything's fucking up, Al."

"We have to move on the UD before more shit happens, Mikey."

"You're right," Michael said after a moment. "I'll call Lester about it tomorrow. Until then, though, I want you and Jimmy to get out of here."

"What?" Alex leaned away from him. "You're kidding, right?"

"Not leave, leave, Al," Michael said, "just move out of the house until we can deal with this thing."

"Hell no."

"Alex -"

"Shut up! If you think I'm leaving the house just because of some stupid rich asshole and his dogs, you're an idiot." Alex stood up and kicked the one that had been ready to rape her. "I'm not leaving you alone to deal with this, Michael."

"Al, if something were to happen to you, I would never forgive myself," Michael said. "You know that."

"And do you think I feel any different?" she questioned, turning to look at him. She saw that he was wearing a black tuxedo, and he as he stood up, it took a lot of her willpower to keep from throwing herself at him. "No, alright? We're going to deal with this together."

"And me, too," Jimmy put in. "Nobody comes into our house and fucks with us."

"Jimmy, you're going to stay in a hotel," Michael told him sternly. "You and Tracey."

"Dad!"

"No. I can't make decisions for Alex, but I am making decisions for you. Your mother would never forgive me if something were to happen to you, and with the divorce papers on their way, we're in a bad spot already," Michael said.

Hearing this, Alex looked at him in surprise. "Divorce papers?"

Michael nodded. "Yeah, she sent them from North Yankton this morning. I didn't say anything because we've been busy all day." He glanced down at the floor. "They'll probably be here tomorrow."

"Wow." Jimmy shook his head. "I mean, I knew, but this… this is real, Dad."

"Yeah, it is, Jim," Michael agreed. "But, this is how it was going to be for a long time." Alex watched as he reached down and rubbed the bare space on his fourth finger on his left hand. She hadn't even noticed the silver wedding band was missing.

Michael felt her gaze on him, and he looked up. She raised her eyes to meet his, and offered him a sad smile. "I don't really have a place to say anything, but you're joining the divorcee club with Davey."

"Oh yeah, that's the best part," Michael said in amusement. "Free chocolates and soap to take bubble baths to cope with the sadness."

"That's sounds like the woman's half of the deal," Alex mused.

"Nah, they get the money, depending on the reason for divorce."

"What's Mom getting, Dad?" Jimmy queried.

"Enough," Michael said with a shake of his head. "It doesn't matter; everything's going to be better now, the way it should be."

"And that's better?" Alex asked him.

"Psh," Michael scoffed. "It's something." He glanced at her. "I imagine you don't really want to go to the premiere now, huh?" She merely stared at him, and he nodded. "Yeah, didn't think so."

"Fine with me," Jimmy said. "I already had my limo ride." He turned and headed into his bedroom, the door closing behind him. Michael held out his arms, and Alex walked into them with a sigh. Michael hugged her close, kissing her lightly on the top of her head.

"You don't need to worry about it," he said softly.

"I'm not."

"You and I both know that's not true," he responded. "It's alright, Al. It's for the best."

"Are you sure about that?" she queried, not believing him for an instant.

"I get you out of this, right?"

She could only let out a small laugh. "You always had me."

($)

"They came to my house, Lester!" Michael growled into his phone the next day. He punched a blue pole holding up a sign on the Del Perro Pier in anger. "My house!" He looked sideways at Alex. "I asked Al and the kids to move out for a few days, but one of them wasn't willing to leave. We need to get this sorted out."

Alex walked closer so that she could hear Lester's response. "I hate to say it, but Merryweather isn't short on excuses to come and kill you." He hesitated. "Nor is Devin Weston."

"I ain't looking for perspective, Lester," Michael told him. "They came after Alex, my kids."

"Alright, alright," Lester muttered on the other end. "I don't know what to say. Does this change where you stand on the Union Depository?"

"Hell no," Michael answered immediately. "We move on that right away, before it gets any hotter."

"Smart move," Lester agreed. "Meet me at the strip joint. I'll get word to Frank and Trevor."

"Alright," Michael said, lowering his phone. He put it in his pocket and turned to Alex. "We have to go."

He started to head towards his car, which waited in the parking lot of the pier. Alex hurried after him, aware of his angry walk. "What's the matter with you?" she demanded.

Michael stopped stalking to his car immediately, and turned to face her. "What's the matter with me?" he mocked. "You almost got raped last night, Alex, by a mercenary sent to my house! What do you think the problem is?"

"If I'm not upset, you shouldn't be," Alex said firmly. "Stop acting like you didn't think this would happen! You chased Devin Weston's lawyer into a fucking plane engine, Michael!"

"That does not give him a pass to attack you!" Michael shouted. "He should have targeted me!"

"Why would he?" Alex hissed. "You didn't kill him; you killed his lawyer. Why should he kill you, when he could kill someone you're close too?" Michael shook his head, and Alex walked the rest of the way to him, taking his face in her hands. "That's how Devin Weston operates, Michael. An eye for an eye, a hand for a hand. You do something to him, he'll hit you back in the same manner."

"Don't you think I wish that I hadn't chased Molly Schultz into that hangar?" Michael asked her.

"Of course I do!" Alex responded. "But it happened, and last night happened because of it. That's all there is too it."

"You were targeted because of me," Michael said quietly. "That's not something that I can deal with, Al."

"That's why we're dealing with it together." Alex gazed up at him, waiting for agreement to show in his green eyes. None came, and she let out a breath, letting go of his face. "It doesn't matter, Michael. What's done is done. We have to move on from it, and focus on what we're doing now." She walked away from him towards his car. "Let's go to the strip club."

"Alex," Michael said from behind her. She stopped, but didn't turn around. There was a small pause before Michael went on, "You're not doing the UD with us."

Alex closed her eyes. "Michael –"

"No." She felt his hands on her shoulders, and she bowed her head. "We've talked about this before. I won't let you get hurt, and last night, you almost did. If it happens again, I don't know what I'll do." Michael turned her around so that she was facing him, and he put a finger under her chin to lift her head. "I need you to promise me that, no matter what happens, you will not try to be a part of this."

She stared up at him, and saw in his eyes that he was begging her. She could hear it in his voice, and feel it in the hand that lay on her shoulder. He needed her promise.

But she couldn't give it to him.

"No," she said softly. "I won't stay away from this. If there is something I can do, I'm going to do it. You'll need my help, just like you always do."

"I'm asking you not to help."

"And I'm telling you that I can't promise I won't," Alex retorted. She pulled out of his grasp. "Come on."

They climbed into Michael's car in silence, Alex staring straight ahead. She didn't feel Michael's eyes on her, so she assumed he was staring straight ahead, too.

The silence remained as Michael drove from Del Perro Pier towards the South Los Santos. It was a very awkward 50 minutes. Alex wanted to say something, but she didn't know what to say. As the time stretched on, she grew more annoyed with the damn traffic of Los Santos than she had ever been before.

"Alex …" Michael finally began as they pulled up to the last light before the strip club.

"Oh, now you decide to talk."

"I didn't know what to say."

Alex scoffed. "You and me both."

"You do realize that if something happens to you, I'm going to be devastated."

"And what do you think I'm going to deal with if something happens to you?" Alex queried sharply.

Michael didn't respond as he turned into the parking at the Vanilla Unicorn. He pulled into a spot and turned the car off before turning in his seat to face her.

"I realize that I can't _keep_ you from doing anything –"

"So, what are we talking about here?"

"- but I can do my best to convince you not to do something."

Alex studied him. "You're kidding me, right? When have you ever been able to convince me to not do something?"

"I convinced you to stay out of the Bureau raid," Michael countered. Alex didn't respond, and he sighed. "I know that this is different, but how much different?"

"You're going to be robbing the most locked-up bank in America. You'll have more of a risk dying in there than you ever did in the FIB building," Alex told him. "Why do you think I want to be with you guys the whole time?"

"Because you have a death wish."

"Not as big of a death wish as you."

They glared at one another for a long moment before there was a knock on the back window, pulling their attentions away from one another as they both turned to look. It was Franklin, and when he saw he had their attention, he held out his arms in question.

"We should get inside," Alex suggested, turning to do just that.

"Alex." She stopped long enough to hear what Michael had to say. "Just…think about it, alright?"

"Sure, Michael," she answered. "I'll think about it."

She climbed out of the Tailgater, and Franklin approached her from behind. "What were you two doin' in there?" he asked her.

"Talking," she responded. "Don't worry about it. Let's go."

She walked into the Vanilla Unicorn, not waiting for Michael or Franklin to follow. For whatever reason, she _was_ thinking about it, about not joining the three of them on the heist, about staying with Lester like she had for the Bureau raid.

Could she really do that again, for the biggest job they would ever pull, the last job they would ever pull?

She walked into Trevor's office to Lester and Trevor talking about Michael. Trevor was sitting on his desk, though he stood up as soon as she walked in and grabbed her arm to pull her into a hug, like he knew she needed one.

"I'm sorry, princess," he said quietly. "I'll kill him for you, if you want."

"No thanks, T," she replied, accepting his hug. "I'm going to kill him myself."

Michael and Franklin entered the office, then, and Trevor released her. "We were just talking about you," he said as greeting to Michael.

"Oh, don't worry," Michael started. "Another few hours, and you'll never have to talk about me again, Trevor."

"You're the one who likes to talk." Trevor looked at Franklin, and then at Lester. "Watch you back, you two." He walked past Alex and stood in front of Michael. "That's all I'm saying."

"Fuck you," Michael muttered.

"Fuck you?" Trevor exclaimed.

Alex and Franklin exchanged frustrated looks as Michael and Trevor started to yell at one another. Lester sighed. "Alright, alright, alright!" he shouted. "Enough! Enough!" They stopped yelling, and Lester stood up with the help of his cane. "Thank you. Okay." He gestured to the wall before them. "This is it."

Michael and Trevor approached the wall with Lester behind them. "We have two options," he went on. "They're both a little out there, but then again, what do you expect?"

Franklin hopped off the desk and joined them. Alex leaned against it, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Okay, option one," Lester continued. "We hijack their armored cars, we take their crews hostage, and then we infiltrate the Depository." Michael studied the wall closely while Franklin and Trevor exchanged a look. "Now, once you're in there and you've got the score, we send in a team of modded cars. You load up, you get out."

Lester turned away from the wall, thinking. "We'll need to infiltrate the transportation grid, manipulate it to aid our escape," he concluded after a moment.

Michael nodded in approval, and Lester turned back to the wall. "Option two… We cause a distraction out front, make 'em think we're dumb."

"We've never had a problem convincing people of that, have we?" Michael put in. Of course he had to add a comment along those lines at least once. It took a lot of Alex's willpower to keep from sending the tape dispenser on the desk into his head.

Thankfully, Trevor was the one who showed Michael just how dumb his comment had been. He bent over in obnoxious, pointless laughter, hands on his knees.

Lester ignored them both. "The other guys will be drilling, taking what they can." He pointed to Michael. "You're gonna be the distraction."

"Always the attention seeker," Trevor exclaimed. "Y'know, for a guy who's always stepping on his friends to get ahead, he has an unfortunately low sense of self-worth."

"Okay, okay," Lester said, stopping Trevor while he was ahead. He gestured past him to the wall. "Let me show you the board."

Alex, however, chose this moment to step in. "Before you show them anything, Lest, I would like to say something." All four of them turned to face her, and she let out a breath. "I know that Michael doesn't want me to be a part of the heist, and he has his reasons. I, however, don't think it's right to keep me out just because he doesn't want me getting hurt."

"I don't want you to be in it either, Red." Franklin spoke first, and she looked at him in surprise. "I don't know. It might not be necessary to have you be a part of it, so why should you be?" He paused. "That didn't sound like it did in my head."

"Why is it that _we_ get to be in the job, but Alex has to sit off to the side?" Trevor asked. "It's not fair to her, and it's not fair to us."

"Thank you, Trevor," Alex said.

"You know what?" Michael inserted. They all looked at him, and he gestured to the board. "Alex wants to be in it to make sure we don't get hurt. If she's so certain we will if she's not there with us, let's do the first option. There's a small chance of us getting our heads blown off in that scenario."

"And what if your acting skills don't pay off?" Alex queried.

"Then… that's the way it played out."

There was a silence as they all exchanged glances. "Alright," Lester finally said. "So, the subtle option, then?" The three boys nodded, and they looked at her for confirmation. Alex stared at Michael for a long moment.

"If anything goes wrong –"

"You can flay me," he promised. "Or, better yet, I'll let you kill Devin Weston when the time comes."

They held gazes for another second before Alex nodded her consent.

"Alright," Lester said again. They all faced the wall, and he gestured towards the pictures signifying the subtle approach. "You've got to get some police stingers. Only cops are licensed to have 'em, so that's a headache of its own." He studied the wall. "What else… Oh, right. You'll need to get a hold of and mod some getaway cars. Normal suspension's gonna give out under a couple tons of gold."

"Whoa," Franklin said before he could continue. "A couple of tons?"

"Four tons in total," Lester agreed, grinning boyishly. "That's what I can get the system to divert into the cage we're hitting. "

"Fuck me," Franklin and Alex exclaimed at the same time.

"Okay, okay, last thing, you remember that underpass we saw from the helicopter?" He directed his question to Trevor, who nodded. "That's where I'll set up the smoke and mirrors to get the cops off your scent."

"I've heard that before," Trevor grumbled, sending a small glance in Michael's location, which, to his credit, he ignored.

"It's gonna take a big crew," Lester said. "Two gunmen, two drivers, and a hacker." He shuffled over to the desk and picked up the papers with the crew members information on them. "First gunman comes into the bank with you, helps you move the gold into the reinforced hot rods. Second gunman is there to take down the armored cars, and bring the hostages to a safehouse."

"Hey, we gotta do Gus and Chef," Alex concluded. "It's only right."

"I agree," Trevor said, pulling the papers from Lester's hands and looking through them. He found both papers and taped them to the wall before handing the remaining stack to Michael.

"Okay, driver number one takes the wheel in the fourth getaway car, is gonna be at the bank with you, and help loading. They're a key part of this."

"Eddie Toh," Michael concluded, pulling the paper free and passing it to Trevor, who taped it up.

"Good, good," Lester agreed. "Driver two helps you hijack the armored cars, and will be in charge of replacing the tires your stingers ripped out."

"Let's use her," Franklin said, pointing out a woman. "She knows her way around a car."

"Do you trust her?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, she seemed cool enough."

"Alright," Michael said, handing the paper over.

"Now, the hacker, they're going to break into the traffic system."

"Do we even need to discuss this one?" Michael asked, pulling Paige Harris's paper from the stack.

"Nope."

Once Trevor had put her paper on the wall, and all five of them backed away from the wall to study it. "We only get one shot at this," Lester reminded them all. "Are we good?"

"Yeah," Michael concluded after a moment. "We're good."

"Alright," Lester sighed. "We'll need those stingers, and the armored cars." He grinned. "I knew you'd like it."

"Sounds kind of fruity, if you ask me," Trevor grunted.

"Nobody asked you," Michael responded plainly, looking over the wall once more. "Look, this is our only hope," he said at last, pointing to the plans. "You control traffic in this town, you control the streets. I think it could work."

"It will work," Lester confirmed. "As long as we're ready to move now." He waved his hand and started for the door. "Come on, I'll take you to the equipment."

Trevor followed him, patting Alex and Franklin on their shoulders as he went by, and giving Michael a not-so-friendly shove. All three of them shared a look before Franklin rolled his eyes and went after him.

"Fuckin' asshole," Michael grumbled under his breath, staring at the wall for another moment.

"Michael," Alex warned.

He glanced at her, his shoulders dropped. "Alright, let's go," he muttered, following her out the door.

The others were waiting for them outside. "I'm gonna see about them cars," Franklin said once they were all present. "Hao might give me a discount on the things we need."

"Good idea," Michael replied, nodding.

"I'll shoot you an email with their locations," Lester added.

"Shit, we're really going to do this, ain't we?" Franklin asked them all.

"Yeah, we really are," Trevor agreed. There was a moment of silence between them all before Franklin nodded and hopped onto his motorcycle, pulling out of the parking lot and away from them.

"I can go get the spikes," Trevor offered when he was gone.

"I'll go with you," Alex said as he started to climb into his truck.

Trevor glanced from her to Michael and back again. "You don't have to, princess," he said. "I can get 'em on my own. I'll see you all soon." He started the Bodhi and drove away.

Alex bowed her head as Michael turned to Lester. "Call me when everything's ready," he said.

"I will," Lester assured.

"Al?" Michael queried, looking at her.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm comin'. Later, Lester." She followed Michael to his car and climbed into the passenger seat.

As he pulled from the parking lot, Michael looked at her. "Thank you, Al," he said, almost soft enough that she didn't hear him.

"For what?" she questioned stiffly.

"You know what," Michael muttered. "Don't act like this, alright? It's for the best."

"Is it really?" she demanded, looking at him sideways. Michael didn't say anything in response, and Alex turned her gaze back to the passenger side window. "Yeah," she mumbled under her breath. "I didn't think so."

* * *

 **Well. All righty then.**

 **Question for Today: Is it fair of Alex to be pissed off at Michael for not wanting her to be apart of The Big One? Is it fair of Michael to not want Alex to be apart of The Big One? Which is in the wrong?**

 **All right, back to the story of Liam Sterling McGuire. I'll see y'all on Friday. Happy Labor Day to those who live here in 'Murica.**


	29. The Big One!

**Yay! It's Friday! Whoohoo! That means it's new chapter day! Whoohoo! I believe there's two more to go, and then she is _finito_ , as the Italian say. **

**GlossyFresh: Well my friend, like I just said, there's two more chapters of this, including an epilogue, and then... I don't know, to be quite honest. I sort of have an idea for a sequel, but it could be a while before it comes to fruition. Who knows?**

 **princessstark: It's okay if you miss a chapter. I don't expect you to review every chapter, even though it's awesome when you do! Hope you had a good first week of school, by the way. I know mine was hell, but now I'm back in the groove. It only took a month.**

 ** **Alpha-Wolf619: Welcome to the fold, friendship! You came a little late to the party, but that's okay. Glad to have you here. Anyhow, I think you're right; they both have reasons for the way they're thinking. Personally, I kind of think they're both being monkeys, but whatever. Gotta love 'em anyhow.****

 ** **awolfnamedThaliaJackson: Don't worry; Alex finds a way to be apart of the Big One, even if it doesn't involve going into the Union Depository with Michael and Trevor. She won't stand by that easily!****

 ** **Guest: You know something, Guest friend? This story is pretty high up on the list of my favorite things too. It's listed under video games, writing and reading. And YouTube.****

 ** **All righty then! Let's get into the Big One, eh?****

* * *

"Alright!" Michael said, entering the back room in front of her.

"Hurry up and get changed," Trevor said, holding up a box in his direction. "This is the biggest day of your sorry little life." He turned to Alex as Franklin also entered the room and Lester threw Michael a box of his own. "I would suggest hiding your eyes, princess."

"Yeah, I'll do that," Alex responded, shaking her head and turning to face the wall.

"So, we're really doing this shit?" Franklin queried.

"Franklin, Alex, come on," Lester said, waving his hand. "Next door." He led them into the office as Paige came through the back door of the strip club. "Ah, our network hacker," Lester greeted. "Don't be fooled by the CRT and the fax machine. The hardware here is state of the art."

Paige simply nodded and headed towards the desk.

"Hey," Trevor said, entering the office dressed in the same outfit that a crew member of the Union Depository truck would wear. "Where's the rest of the crew?"

"Outside," Lester responded.

"Hey, good luck homies," Franklin said as Michael also entered the room, wearing the same uniform. Alex let out a breath of air when she saw him. "We'll see y'all at Mission Row."

Michael started for the door, but Alex grabbed his arm before he could go outside. "Don't do anything stupid," she muttered, avoiding his gaze. Even though she was angry that she couldn't be a part of the job, she would still worry about him.

Michael responded by turning her face in his direction and giving her a gentle kiss. "Don't worry about me," he said softly.

"Alright, alright," Trevor exclaimed, coming between them. "We're going to miss our slot if this love affair goes on for any longer."

Alex smiled and leaned up on her toes to plant a kiss on Trevor's cheek. "You be safe too, T," she said firmly.

Trevor's face had gone red. He waved her away with his hand, gesturing towards the back door with the other. "Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "We'll see you guys soon, with approximately eight tons of gold!"

"Four tons," Michael corrected as Trevor pushed him out the door. "Not eight."

He and Michael exited the office, and Alex stood in the doorway to watch them drive off. "Alright people, let's go," Michael ordered. "Get in the car; we are about to make history!"

The crew members hopped into the car as Michael turned to look at Alex. She gave him a tiny grin, and he returned it before going around to the other side of the car and climbing into the driver's seat. Trevor leaned out the passenger window and waved at her.

"Remember, Alex," he said. "If we don't come back, you're in charge of Trevor Philips Industries!"

"Sure, T," she replied. "How about you do come back, and I won't have to worry about that."

"We'll see where today takes us!" he answered, winking and ducking back into the car. The window rolled up, and the vehicle rolled out, leaving Alex with nothing but the lingering dust that had flown up from the tires.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment before retreating into the strip club again. Lester and Franklin were standing behind the desk with Paige, and Franklin looked up when Alex closed the door. "We're cool, Red," he assured her, seeing the look on her face.

"I won't believe you until Trevor and Michael are pulling into Mission Row with the trucks," Alex answered. She eyed the computer Paige was taping away on. "How's it looking?"

"Pretty good," she responded, not taking her eyes off of the screen. "I should have us in by the time we reach Mission Row."

"When are we heading out, Lest?" Franklin asked.

"As soon as we're able," he replied. "Paige?"

"We can head out right… Now," she concluded, hitting a final button. She closed the laptop and disconnected it from the main computer it was attached too. "C'mon."

"Franklin, you're driving," Lester told him, heading for the door. "Let's go."

The four of them headed out of the Vanilla Unicorn towards the vehicle Franklin had grabbed for this purpose. "Where are the Gauntlets?" Alex asked Lester as they climbed into the car.

"Already there," Lester said. "We preset them to make things easier."

Franklin pulled out of the parking lot and started to drive towards Mission Row. The drove in silence, reaching the place quickly, for some reason. "Green lights all the way," Franklin mused. "Is that a sign?"

"Could be," Lester agreed.

They climbed out of the car in front of the four modded Gauntlets. Paige set her laptop on the back of one and opened it too finish her hacking job. Alex paced in front of a green one, biting her thumbnail and watching the road. She stiffened when she recognized a black Mesa roll past where they were under an overpass.

"Uh… Guys? Merryweather."

"Shit," Lester muttered, hurrying over to where Paige was. "We need to get into the traffic system, fast."

"Michael's on the chat," Franklin said. He pushed a button on his earpiece. "Not good – Merryweather know we took the UD, they're out looking for you. Alex just saw one roll by."

Alex spotted another Mesa in the distance, and she cursed under her breath. "I have to do something." She started jogging towards the Mesa she's spotted. They were parked right outside the hiding area.

Not sure exactly what she was planning on doing, sauntered over to the Mesa and leaned into the driver's window, which was down. "Hey," she greeted the two soldiers that were inside.

The driver, who was the more attractive of the two, raised an eyebrow. "Hello there," he said. "What can I do for you?"

Alex noticed the box on the dashboard, which was probably keeping these two in sync with the other Merryweather soldiers driving around Los Santos. "What are you guys doing?" she queried, turning her gaze back to the driver.

"Just keeping the city safe, sweetheart," he answered. "Nothing to worry your pretty little head about."

"I'm sure," she agreed. "Just... if there's a problem, I want to know about it. Y'know, so I don't do anything… dangerous."

The driver studied her for a moment. "I really don't think you need to worry," he insisted at last. "It's no big deal."

The radio bleeped. "Come in, the stolen trucks were en-route to where you are stationed."

The passenger reached over and grabbed the speaker while the driver waved his hand at her. "We need to get to work."

"I thought you said it was no big deal?" Alex questioned, lifting an eyebrow.

The driver let out a breath and exchanged a look with his partner. "It isn't," he allowed. "It's just some crooks who thought they were above the American legal system. No different from the other people in this city."

"So… no need to worry, then," Alex concluded.

"None."

"So what are you sitting here for?" she demanded. "Go do something that will actually save America, instead of just waste time looking for common criminals. Go stop a bomb from being planted."

She backed away from the window and crossed her arms, waiting. "Ma'am," the driver started.

"Go!"

There must have been something in her voice, because the Merryweather soldier immediately ducked back into the Mesa and hurriedly drove away. Alex, completely surprised she'd been able to do that, returned to the area where the Gauntlets were stashed.

"What were you doing?" Lester asked.

"Making sure we didn't have any Merryweather watching us," she replied. As soon as she'd spoken, two green UD trucks pulled around the corner to the area under the overpass they were in. They all hopped out, Gus leading a hostage they'd taken for themselves.

"Hustle up!" Michael ordered. He pointed. "You guys, redistribute the weight."

"Here they are!" Franklin greeted, abandoning his laptop.

"Hey, good work, F," Michael praised.

"Damn, I can't believe we got the metal!" Franklin exclaimed, shaking his head.

"Damn right," Michael agreed, grinning. "All without firing a bullet."

"Don't forget old Case, here," Trevor reminded him, pushing the hostage onto the ground and holding his gun up next to his head. "The lead ain't gonna be wasted."

"No, no, please," the hostage whimpered.

"The biggest score of our lives," Trevor explained. "We ain't taking any chances."

Michael walked over to one of the trucks and took a gold bar out of it. Alex felt her eyes go wide when she saw it. Michael carried it over to the hostage Trevor had his gun pointed too.

"It ain't a chance if he's in on it," he said to Trevor. He reached down and pulled the hostage to his feet, and shoved the gold bar into his chest. "You tell them something that ain't on the news already, this was all your idea. Got it?"

The hostage gaped down at the bar for a moment before stammering, "Yeah, yeah I understand. Not a word."

"Exactly," Michael agreed.

"I was jumped, I didn't see anything!" the hostage called over his shoulder as he ran out from under the hiding spot towards the road.

Alex approached Michael when he was gone. "That was good, M," she said with a small nod.

"You're fucking going as soft as that old flaccid boy in your pants!" Trevor shouted. "This divorce couldn't come soon enough."

"Fucking-a!" Michael started to get in Trevor's face while Alex rolled her eyes and backed away.

Franklin came in just before they started to beat one another. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "Work first, bicker later, alright?" He turned, shaking his head. "Damn."

"A, let's go back to M's house," Lester said from near the car Franklin had driven them in.

Alex didn't want to leave the crew while there was still the threat of Merryweather coming after them, and she looked at Michael. He nodded. "Go. We'll see you at home."

She returned the nod and hurried over to the car, climbing into the driver's seat. "We need to get there and open the whiskey!" Lester explained with a devilish grin.

She shook her head with a chuckle and pulled onto the road to do just that. Keeping an eye out for black Mesas on the way, she drove to Michael's house. Lester had pulled out his tablet. "Uh oh," he said.

"What?"

Instead of replying to her, Lester put on an earpiece and spoke into it. "Merryweather alerted the cops to your activities. Every unit in the city is on their way. Go! Go now!" He shook his head. "It wouldn't be a robbery without a police chase."

They reached the house and Alex helped Lester out of the car and inside. It seemed empty again, without Jimmy and Tracey there. "The booze is in the kitchen," she said to him, looking out the window on the front doors.

"They won't be here for another hour, at least," Lester said, heading into the kitchen to find some alcohol. "Come on, kick up your feet and read a book or something. They'll be fine."

Alex sighed in frustration, but walked away from the doors all the same. She joined Lester in the living room and sat down on the couch, picking up the Book of Mormon as she did so. She began to read, aware that her hands were shaking from nerves.

 _Calm down, Alex,_ she ordered. _They're going to be just fine. Think about the reunion instead of worrying about them._

She closed her eyes, picturing what would happen in her mind. She'd be reading the Book of Mormon, Lester would be gone for some reason, and Michael would come into the house, looking just as great as he always did.

"Al?"

She raised her eyes from the Book of Mormon and found Michael standing in the archway between the living room and the hallway. For some strange reason, her breathing hitched and she felt tears in her eyes.

Michael remained in the archway, looking unsure as to whether he could run to her and scoop her up in a hug, or avoid her in case she started to yell at him. Alex didn't know the answer herself. At least, she didn't know until he scratched the back of his neck and looked down at the floor.

Alex jumped up, abandoning the book, and ran the short distance across the living room into his arms. She wrapped her own around his neck and pressed her lips to his in a deep kiss. She'd never been so happy to see someone in all her life, let alone kiss them.

Michael's arms around her waist tightened, and he spun her around in a circle, not letting her feet touch the floor. When he'd completed the spin, he let her back down and Alex pulled back, aware of the tears that were starting to fall. She brushed her hands through his hair and let out a short chuckle to disguise her tears.

"I hate you," she informed him. "I really do."

"Why, I don't know," Michael said with a small grin. He placed a hand on her cheek and brushed away a rogue tear with is thumb. "I'm sorry, Al."

She gave him a weak grin. "Just… stop trying to get yourself killed, all right?"

"Of course," he responded, bending down to kiss her again.

Before their lips could meet, however, Alex was rudely drawn out of her imagination by Lester tapping on her shoulder.

"Let's go," he said. "They're pulling up outside."

Hearing this, Alex jumped up and sprinted towards the front door of Michael's mansion, forgetting all about her daydream. She threw the door open just as Michael, Trevor and Franklin pulled into the driveway in their black Bee Jay they'd used to get away.

She didn't hesitate as Michael climbed from it and held out his arms. She ran into them and latched her own around his neck, hugging him tightly, but sparing the others her fantasy kiss.

Instead, she whispered, "You are so lucky you're not dead," into his ear, which received a laugh in response as Michael lowered her back to the ground.

"I wouldn't want to get killed now," he responded. "Not with you around."

Ah jeez. It was taking so much willpower not to lean up and attack him with her lips, especially as he gave her a small smirk.

"Hey, hey," Trevor grumbled, coming up and pushing between them. "Not that I don't already know about the infatuation you two have with one another, but me and Franklin, we're alive too, you know."

Alex merely wrapped her arms around his waist in response. Trevor hesitated for a moment before he returned the hug with a heavy sigh. "Thanks, princess."

"Hey." She let go of him and turned to look at Franklin. He held out his arms. "We did it."

"We did it!"

Lester came out of the house as Alex returned to Michael and pulled him into another hug, resting her head against his chest. Lester waved his hand. "We just made history, boys," he told them.

"Ah, I don't want to ask a dumb question here," Trevor began, raising his hand, "but, where's the metal?"

"I have it on lock down for a few days while I'm waiting for the go ahead to melt it and move it," Lester explained stepping down off of Michael's front steps.

"Where?" Trevor demanded.

"Where?" Michael asked more gently.

"Where is just the point," Lester told them, lifting the beer he was holding to his mouth. He took a drink before going on. "Let's say somebody gets pinched, well then where is the evidence, or if anyone gets any silly ideas, then they'll just be futile."

"So, we can just take it easy, knowing that ah, it'll be a few days before Judas here shows his true colors," Trevor said, eyeing Michael.

Alex felt him tense. "Really?" he asked. "Now?"

"Yeah," Trevor agreed. "Now, sugar."

"Why don't you take a moment while you're sitting on that big fat pile of cash to chill the fuck out, and realize what's done is done?" Michael shouted.

"Mikey," Alex said gently, looking up at him.

"Whatever you say!" Trevor agreed. Michael moved Alex out of the way as Trevor leaned closer to him, preparing for a fight.

"Well, this is a good time," Franklin sighed when Trevor and Michael started to yell over one another with a lot of "fucks" and mirrored words

"Knock it off!" Alex shouted.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!" Lester said, getting between them before they could start to hit one another. Alex moved in and pushed Michael backwards as Lester went on, "For a couple of mid-west stick up artists, you guys sure have become a pair of whiny, west coast douchebags!"

"What the fuck is wrong with the west coast?" Franklin demanded.

"Oh nothing!" Lester exclaimed. "I love it here, everyone's so numbed by the sun that if you use a three syllable word they think you're a professor!"

"Man, fuck you!" Franklin said.

"Yeah, fuck you, you high and mighty weasel!" Trevor shouted, getting right up in Lester's grill. "And you don't talk down to these fucking idiots!"

"Hey!" Michael shouted. "Leave Lester alone!"

"Oh!" Trevor exclaimed. "You and Lester together? Oh no, now that makes fucking sense!" he said, doing a weird little gesture with his arms as he danced backwards away from them.

Alex looked at Franklin desperately. He sighed and moved forward. "Oh for fuck's sake, man!" he said before pointing to them all. "You all assholes. Man, I gotta go calm down, homie. This shit was real illuminating." He stalked away down the driveway.

"Franklin!" Michael called after him, but he didn't stop. "Come on, man, I'm sorry. Come back and have a beer or something!" Franklin did no such thing, and he disappeared around the corner. "Fuck," Michael muttered, looking up at the sky.

"See what you do?" Trevor asked him. Michael looked at him, and Trevor held out his arms. "You scared him off."

"Listen to me, you fucking -"

"Hey!" Alex shouted, moving between them before Michael could get any closer. "Shut up and listen to _me_ , alright? What happened, happened. It's over. Who gives a shit? What matters is what you guys just managed to do. You robbed the motherfucking Union Depository. If you'd rather argue with one another over some failed heist that happened ten years ago, be my guest, but I think we should celebrate over the fact that y'all just made fucking history by pulling this shit off!"

Trevor and Michael glared at one another for a moment longer, and then Trevor took a step back. Alex glanced first at him, and then at Michael. "I want you two to look at one another, and understand that you did it. Together. As a team. And this time, nothing went wrong. So can you two fucks please just stop fucking fighting for one fucking minute and hug it the fuck out?"

"No, no, I ain't touching him," Trevor growled.

"That's right, you stay away from me," Michael told him.

"No problem with that, man," Trevor responded. He looked at Alex. "When you get him to calm down, call me, alright? I'll see you later."

Trevor walked away in the same direction Franklin had gone, leaving the other three alone. Alex glared at Michael, who held out his arms. "What?"

Alex merely shook her head and looked at Lester. "Later, L," she said before running up the stairs and into the house. She went into the living room, shaking her head.

"Alex!" Michael called after her, and she heard the door open and close. She sat down on the couch, crossing her arms. Michael appeared in the archway between the living room and the front hall. "What's your problem?" he asked.

"What's my problem?" Alex queried. "I don't have a problem. It's you and Trevor that seem to have the fucking problem."

"What do you want me to do, huh?" Michael questioned, walking into the living room. "Trevor won't let it go. I can't force him to stop bringing it up, Al."

"No, you can't," Alex agreed, "but you could stop encouraging him to keep going on about it!"

Michael studied her. "Are you saying that this is my fault?"

"No," Alex said with a small sigh. "I'm just… Trevor will stop doing something if you don't let him see it bothers you. You should know that by now."

"Yeah, I do," Michael muttered. He ran a hand over his face before he walked over to the couch and held out his hand. Alex gazed at it. "C'mon, Al. Hug it out, right?"

Alex moved her eyes from his hand to his face. Michael gave her a small grin, and she grunted before standing up and walking past him towards the kitchen. Michael remained behind her for a brief moment, shocked that she'd refused his hug.

"Hold on," he said, following her into the kitchen. "Did you just fucking walk past me?"

"Yes I did," Alex told him, pulling a beer out of the fridge. "Good job noticing."

Michael walked up behind her and closed the fridge with one hand, blocking her between it and himself. "And you thought that I would let you get away with doing that?"

Alex popped open the bottle and took a long drink, gazing at him all the while. When she swallowed, she tilted her head and lifted an eyebrow. "No, I didn't."

"So… you did it on purpose then?" Michael asked.

"Perhaps," Alex agreed.

Michael leaned closer to kiss her, but she pushed the bottle to his lips before he could. Michael glared at her, but took it and took a drink. He walked away from her, drinking, and she ducked past him back into the living room. Michael followed her, finishing the bottle and setting it down.

He gazed at her with a raised eyebrow. She gazed right back. "What?"

"What?" Michael responded, mocking her. He grinned and backed up as she took a swing at him. "Uh oh, someone's drunk."

"I'm not drunk!" she argued. "I barely had any."

Michael laughed. "Alright, whatever you say." She fell backwards onto the couch, and he sat down beside her. Alex leaned against him, laying her cheek on his shoulder. Michael adjusted so that she was in a more comfortable position and glanced down at her. "Hey, Al?"

"Hmm?"

"Tell me, what did you do while we were doing the score?"

"Oh, y'know," Alex began, lifting her gaze up to his. "Sat around."

"That so?" Michael queried. "Doesn't sound very fun."

"It wasn't," Alex agreed. "So, that's why I went out for a little stroll."

"A stroll?"

"Yes, a stroll. I went out and tried to figure out how to help you turds."

Michael hesitated. "Wait, what?"

"So, while Franklin was leading you around Los Santos using traffic lights, I was making sure Merryweather didn't see us under the overpass," Alex finished, ignoring him. She sat up straight and gave him a cheeky grin. "You're lucky that I'm so good looking."

Michael didn't return the smile. In fact, he frowned. "Didn't I tell you not to get involved?"

"Yes, you did," Alex agreed. "But like I've told you, you're not the boss of me. I do what I like, Michael. I'm a grown woman."

Michael shook his head. "Alex, what if something had happened to you?"

"If something had happened to me, it would have been because something already happened to you, Mikey," she told him. "I would never put myself in danger unless you or one of them was in trouble. I needed to help you, and it just so happened that I was given the opportunity to do so."

"Alex –"

"Shut up," she said firmly. "It's over. Nothing happened to me, or to you, or too Franklin or Trevor or any of the crew members." She held out her arms. "We did it!"

Michael stared at her for a moment longer before he let out a breath and leaned back against the couch. "We did it."

"Fucking-a right we did it!" Alex laughed and leaned over, kissing him on the cheek. "You can retire now, Michael. For good this time."

"Hmm," he mused. "We're not finished just yet, Al. We still have Steve Haines to deal with, and Devin Weston, too."

"Ah, fuck," she muttered, falling backwards onto the couch. "I completely forgot about those douchebags. What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know yet," Michael replied with a sigh. "But I have a feeling it'll be revealed soon enough."

* * *

 **And there we go! Good! We'll see how they deal with the douchebags in the next chapter, and then *sniff* the epilogue.**

 **I love you all, and I'll see you guys on Monday. Kisses and hugs (if you don't like kisses (if you don't like hugs, I'll simply wave at you (or give you a high five. Whichever you prefer)))**


	30. The Last One (Before the Epilogue)

**Ah. You know that feeling you get when you know you're about to read what may very well be the last you'll see of a character?**

 **Yeah, I don't have that feeling, because Friday is the day that contains what might very well be the last you'll see of Alex. Not the last of what I'll see of her, of course, since she's my Online character, but... you dig.**

 **awolfnamedThaliaJackson: I like to think so, yes. Thank you.**

 **All right, here you go. What's probably going to be titled "The Last One (Before the Epilogue)".**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

"Did you manage to get them to shut up yesterday?" Franklin asked her the following morning.

"Yeah," she replied, settling back into one of the chairs in his house. "It wasn't like they really wanted to fight; I feel like they do it just for the hell of it."

Franklin shook his head, but he was grinning. "Crazy motherfuckers," he said, handing her the glass of scotch he'd poured for her. "They're great dudes, but damn, they need to relax."

"I agree," she responded. "To crazy friends."

"Cheers," Franklin agreed, tapping his glass against hers. They both took drinks just as the doorbell of Franklin's home buzzed. "Who the fuck could that be?" he questioned, setting his cup down and heading for the front door. Alex followed, curious.

Franklin pulled it open to reveal the last person Alex wanted to see. "Oh my God."

"Hey, Slick, it's me!" Devin Weston said, holding out his arms. Alex quickly ducked behind a wall so that he wouldn't see her, but she would still be able to listen.

"What the fuck do you want?" Franklin demanded. "You got my money, punk?"

"Hey, you got some coconut water or something like that? I need some electrolytes," Devin said, completely ignoring Franklin's question. Alex heard him sniff. "Damn, it's kind of warm, isn't it?"

"Man, you got a deathwish or something," Franklin told him. "Am I supposed to kill you now?"

 _No, that's my job_ , she thought to herself.

"Oh, no boy," Devin respond. "Not me."

Alex paled. _No._ She peered around the corner and found Franklin gaping at Devin from where he still stood in the doorway.

"Nah," he said, realizing the same thing.

"Oh yeah," Devin retorted, following Franklin into the house. Alex flinched as he shut the door behind him.

"But that's my boy!" Franklin exclaimed.

"But that's my boy," Devin mocked. "He has betrayed everyone he's ever known. He's got you involved with the Federal government, and he's messed up several business ventures of mine. He has got to go." Devin stopped the circles he was pacing around Franklin. "You know what? I would like to say that this isn't personal, but it is personal."

"But the Feds, man," Franklin exclaimed. "The Feds already told me to kill Trevor, and I obviously can't kill 'em both."

"Oh, the Feds," Devin complained with a sneer. "Steve Haines. Dave Norton. I own shopping malls that I would not employ those two clowns in." He held up a hand. "And! I make one phone call, and their careers… they are over! So, you can A: listen to some fifty grand a year pension hunter, or B: a billionaire, who even the president lets finger his wife."

He studied Franklin closely. "Or, C: try to be stupid and save those two idiot mentors of yours and have everyone in the Goddamn state crawling up your ass." He pointed at Franklin. "A, B, or C?" Franklin didn't say anything, and Devin held out his arms. "Time's ticking, pal. Beep, beep, beep, and your answer is?"

Franklin stared at him. "Man, you know what?" he muttered at last, walking towards the door and pulling it open. "Man, fuck you."

Devin didn't bother to argue. Instead, he jogged out the door. "Genius answer, pal, total genius, but time is running. You think about it. Me? I got a triathlon coming up, and I am in deep training. Buh-bye!"

"Man, fuck you!" Franklin repeated, slamming the door shut. Alex came joined him in the hall and stared at him as he ran a hand over his face, a habit he must have picked up from Michael. When he lowered his hand, he met her gaze. "I can't do this, Alex."

"Well, there was an option C," she reminded him gently.

"Do you really think I'ma be able to get Trevor and Michael together long enough to save all our asses?" he asked her.

"They were together long enough to rob the Union Depository."

"Nah, we need to approach this gently," Franklin said. He looked down at the ground, thinking. "I need to call Lester."

"Right," Alex agreed.

Franklin pulled out his phone and dialed Lester's number, putting it on speakerphone. "Franklin."

"Lester, dog, man, me, you and Alex need to talk. We got a problem we need your help with." He scoffed. "Man, actually, fuck it, all of us got a problem we need your help with."

"Calm down, alright? Come to my house," Lester responded.

"Alright, alright, we're comin'." He hung up the phone. "C'mon, Red, we'll get there quick if we take my bike." He led her outside and they both climbed onto the motorcycle. Franklin revved the engine twice before pulling out of the driveway and heading towards Lester's house.

They got there in record time, and they hurried inside. "What's the panic?" Lester called to them from his desk.

"What the fuck do you think?" Franklin asked him. "Man, imagine a scenario that would fuck things up the worst."

"Oh, my mind is just racing," Lester answered. "But, you know, I don't want to say something that's really exciting and then you have to act all deflated and say "no, no, it's just we don't know what family tattoo we should all get, and we need your help to decide," so why don't you go ahead and just tell me?"

"Lester, now is not the time for jokes," Alex growled.

"Some motherfucker wants me to kill Michael. Some other motherfucker wants me to kill Trevor. I know I can't fucking kill either of them, or Alex is going to kill me!" Franklin explained. "Man, we're fucked, man. I don't know what the fuck to do right now." He walked away from Lester and sank down onto his bed.

"Well, I can see that," Lester agreed, rolling past Alex towards Franklin. "Who are the motherfuckers?"

"Steve Haines, this angry motherfucker from the FIB."

"And mother fucking Devin Weston," Alex added.

"Yeah, some rich asshole –"

"Oh, the angry rich fucker from whatever hole he hibernates in," Lester finished with a sigh.

"Exactly," Franklin said.

"Alright, alright," Lester said. "I say…" He glanced at Alex, and she saw that he didn't have an answer before he even finished speaking. Lester let out a breath and turned his wheelchair back around. "Kill Alex here, and then go after Michael first, then Trevor."

"Man, are you for real?" Franklin demanded, standing up and following him to his desk.

"You're fucked!" Lester exclaimed. "I don't - I don't know!"

"You know everything!" Franklin and Alex shouted at the same time.

"I know, okay? But I – I'm sorry, I guess this is it," Lester responded, throwing his hands in the air. "You know? I'm doing my best, but I don't know how you can deal with both of them, and keep this one from coming after you either way."

Franklin bowed his head and started to pace. "I know, man."

"Shit," Lester muttered. "We're fucked. Every single one of us is fucked." There was a small pause where he looked at Alex, and then his eyes widened and he turned to Franklin. "Unless…" He nodded to himself. "Okay. Steve Haines is under a lot of heat because of the shootings at Kortz Center, and Devin Weston's A: known to be a major asshole, and B: known to be friendly with Don Percival who owns Merryweather." He rolled his wheelchair backwards towards his computer. "I think Weston owns a piece of Merryweather… Ah, see? Eleven percent."

He rolled back around to face them. "Pretty good for pseudo-liberal to own a private army. So, they would both love to be involved in capturing the billion that we just lifted. If I tell them both that you boys are at the foundry in Murrieta Heights melting it out, then maybe, maybe, both of them will pay you a visit and –" He hit his fist against his palm. "Bam! We turn it into a – a bust!"

"Well, I ain't got no better ideas," Franklin agreed after exchanging a glance with Alex, "but the chances of us getting both of them there are very, very small."

Alex studied the floor of Lester's house, brow furrowed. "What if…" She trailed off, thinking. "No… that's way too risky."

"What?" Lester asked.

She lifted her gaze to look at them. "I'll call Michael, tell him that I'm going to go find Devin Weston. He'll want to know what made me break, and I'll tell him that he asked Franklin to kill him, and that Franklin is planning on doing so. Michael will be furious, and he'll insist on coming with me to the foundry to finish you and Devin off!"

"What about Trevor?" Franklin asked.

"That's where you come in," Alex responded. "Yeah, you tell Trevor that Devin Weston asked you to kill me and Michael. Trevor may not like Michael, but he sure as hell won't let you kill me. He'll lie, and say that he wants to help, and he'll come to the foundry too. When they're both there, we'll explain what's really happening. They'll have no choice but to help." She rubbed her hands together. "Maybe destroying Merryweather and an FIB squadron will bring them together again, at least closer than they are right now."

"That's so crazy it might actually work," Lester mused after a moment of silence. He nodded to himself and turned to Franklin. "You call Trevor –" He rotated to face Alex. "- and you call Michael. We'll bring them both to the foundry, and hope to God you two get there first."

"Alright, I'm gonna call Trevor first," Franklin said. He pulled out his phone and dialed Trevor's number. "T? Yeah, it's me, Frank. Listen man, I need your help with something. Devin Weston asked me to clap Michael and Alex. He said that if I don't, he's gonna kill my aunt. I can't let him do that, man. I gotta kill them so he doesn't hurt her." He paused. "I mean… you don't have to come and help, man. I know you're close to Alex…" He trailed off as Trevor said something more, and then he sighed. "Alright, fuck it, if you wanna help, I'm meeting 'em at the old foundry place in Murrieta Heights."

He hung up his phone and looked at Alex. "I'll call Lamar too, ask him for his help. You get Michael down there."

"Right," she agreed, taking out her own phone and dialing Michael. He answered on the second ring.

"Hey, Al, what's going on?"

"Michael…" She trailed off and swallowed thickly to make herself sound desperate and unhinged. "I… I can't wait anymore. I have to kill him."

"Who, Weston? Alex, you can't do that by yourself." Michael hesitated. "What the hell made you decide to do this now?"

"When I was at Franklin's, he showed up and asked Frank to kill you," she answered stiffly. "Franklin said that he had too, 'cause Weston threated to kill his aunt. They're meeting at the foundry in Murrieta Heights to go over more details. I'm gonna go there and kill Weston before Franklin can come after you."

There was a long silence on Michael's end. After a moment, he said, "Franklin won't be able to come after me, because I'm going to already be at the foundry, waiting to kill Devin."

"No," Alex said. "Don't come, Michael. Franklin might take the opportunity to kill you then and there, or Weston will."

"What makes you think Weston won't try to kill you if you're there alone?" Michael asked. "No, I'm not letting you do this on your own. I'm going down there."

Before she could argue further, he hung up his phone, and she slid hers into her pocket. Franklin came back into the room from where he'd gone into the bathroom to talk to Lamar. "We're gonna go and pick him up first, and then head to the foundry," he explained.

"I contacted Weston and Haines," Lester said, eyes on his computer. "You need to go now if you want to get there before Trevor and Michael."

"Let's go, Red," Franklin said, hurrying out of the house. Alex followed after him, and they hurriedly hopped on his bike and raced towards South LS to get Lamar. He was waiting outside his house for them, car running.

"My boy Frank and Little Red Ridin' Hood," he greeted.

"Get in the car, quick," she said, pushing him into the passenger side before climbing into the backseat.

"Where're we goin'?" he asked Franklin as they pulled away from the curb.

"We uh… heading to the foundry place," Franklin answered. "Hey, look, hear me out man. If it's too heavy for you, you can back out, no drama."

"Hit me with it."

"Man, we got a real problem, dog. My boys, man, well, we trying to save them," Franklin explained.

"You actually doing something for your homies for a change? Hell yeah, I'm in!" Lamar answered immediately.

Alex smiled to herself when she saw Franklin roll his eyes.

"Who wanna clap your homies?" Lamar questioned as they passed by the LSPD.

"Who don't, nigga? These Chinese dudes, some FIB cats, the rich white asshole who scammed us on them cars…"

"Devin Weston? That punk bitch? Why didn't you say we was creepin' on him?"

"We ain't creepin' on him, nigga. Least, I don't think he gon' be there." Franklin shook his head. "We got to take all the heat he can throw at us before we worry 'bout how we comin' back on his ass."

"But you is comin' back, right?"

"Oh hell yeah!" Franklin answered. "We creeping on that fool."

"Oh, so you ain't the mercurio motherfucker you frontin' as, huh?"

"Man, I'm just trying to make something out of myself, dog. That don't change who my homies are, nigga. It don't change my family."

"Shit, nigga," Lamar said, wiping at his eye. "You getting me all emotional now. Nigga, might have to stop me from sucking your dick, nigga."

The pulled up to the foundry as Franklin shoved him. "Please, nigga, fuck off."

"Shit," Alex said when she saw Trevor and Michael's cars.

"Fuck," Franklin agreed, climbing out of Lamar's. "Look, man, Michael and Trevor, they're inside. Can you stay out here and let us know when the bad dudes is coming?"

"I got you, man. I'll holla at you," Lamar agreed.

"Cool. C'mon, Red, we gotta hurry," Franklin said, pulling her inside. They ran through the control booth and found themselves in a factory type setting. She could hear Trevor and Michael arguing already, and she let out an exasperated breath when she saw them holding up guns on a level higher than she and Franklin were.

Together, they hurried through the factory and up the stairs to the deck they were facing off on, Alex pushing between them as Franklin said, "Hey man, what am I doing risking my ass to save y'all if you two just gonna kill one another?"

"You're not saving me," Michael responded. "You're killing me, right? And Trevor's in on it."

"Yeah, and I'm here to make sure he doesn't kill Alex, too," Trevor agreed. He glanced at her, and then at Franklin. "Though, I'm not sure why you two are showing up together is Franklin is supposed to be killing you."

"Wait, what?" Michael asked. "I thought Devin just wants me dead."

"He does!" Alex exclaimed, pushing his rifle down and pulling Trevor's automatic from his hands. "And Steve Haines wants you dead. _We're_ going to kill their armies before we go and kill _them_."

"Y'all gotta keep your heads right and end this shit, or I'ma put a bullet in Alex, and then in both you motherfuckers, alright?" Franklin demanded, shoving an earpiece on and handing two to the other males. He passed one to Alex, who gave Trevor his gun back, eyeing them both dangerously.

"Are we gonna do this?" she asked them.

Before they could respond Franklin's phone rang, and he pulled it out. "Hey, they here?"

"I know 'em when I see 'em homie," Lamar responded on the other end. "They creepin'."

"Alright, good," Franklin said, putting his phone back in his pocket. He looked from Michael to Trevor. "Y'all hear that? Now, if we're doing this shit, it's now or never."

Michael and Trevor still didn't speak, and Alex let out a growl. "Listen to me," she began, meeting Trevor's, and then Michael's eyes. "I love all three of you very, very much, and I know that what you guys feel for one another may not be _love_ , but you do care about one another in some manner. I'm going to lose two of you if you don't stop bickering for four hours and help Franklin and I take care of this." She let out a breath. "I don't know what I would do without you guys, so please, if not for each other, then for me, point your guns at the ones who deserve it."

Michael turned his gaze back to Trevor, who was already looking at him. "C'mon, T."

Trevor growled. "Fuck it!" he shouted, turning away from Michael. He grunted and let out a breath before turning to Franklin. "Where do you want me?"

"Alright man," Franklin said. He pointed to the top of the booth. "You go over there."

"Where do you want me?" Michael asked him.

"You and Alex stay up here." Franklin pointed to another deck on the other side of the foundry. "I'ma go over there." He and Trevor hurried off to take their places, and Alex leaned up and kissed Michael.

"Let's get this done," she whispered, ducking behind a slab of wood that was leaning against the railing on the deck, peeking around it to keep an eye on Trevor. He reached the top of the control booth just as a group of FIB soldiers came in from that door, all holding automatic rifles.

"Secure the building," one of them said. "Watch your sectors."

Alex glanced over at Franklin to watch for his signal. He gave it by standing up and beginning to fire. Michael immediately started to shoot as well, and she saw Trevor stand up to help. The foundry broke out into a firefight, bullets zipping around all over the place.

"Merryweather coming in the door under me!" Trevor said in her ear.

"They'll be doing us a favor, taking on another out," Michael responded, firing another bullet. He was doing considerable damage with his rifle. Alex was impressed.

"Hey, hey," Lamar's voice was in her ear then, sounding very nervous. "I think they see me, my nigga."

"We got this," Trevor said quickly. "Go help your friend."

"Alright, alright, I'm coming dog," Franklin said to Lamar. Alex saw him hurry down from where he was positioned and run for the door, Trevor and Michael covering him.

"I would be useful if someone gave me a gun!" Alex exclaimed, tired of crouching.

"There's a pistol in the back of my pants," Michael told her. Alex grinned and crawled over to him, reaching up and sliding her hand under the end of his jacket to grab the gun. "Whoa, easy," Michael exclaimed as she pulled it out.

"What? I didn't even do anything to you," she asked, firing at one of the soldiers who thought he'd try to come up and take them down.

"T!" Michael said. "T, come in." Trevor didn't respond. "Shit. Frank, I think T's in trouble. There's an FIB team where I last saw him, and he ain't responding."

"Man, I gotta stay out here with Lamar," Franklin replied. "Can't you go see what's goin' on?"

"Fuck it, I'll go," Alex said.

"Hell no," Michael retorted quickly.

"What the hell are you going to do in close combat with a damn rifle?" Alex demanded. "I have a better chance. Just cover me, and I'll see what Trevor's doing."

Without waiting for another word, she climbed down stairs and started to work her way over to where Trevor had been shooting. A Merryweather loomed in her path, and she shot him in the knee to knock him down before standing up straight and kicking him in the face.

"Damn, that felt good," she said to herself, climbing up the ladder to get to the top of the control booth. She found Trevor crouched in hiding, and she held out her arms. "The fuck are you doing?"

"Catching my breath," he answered. "Nice to see you guys cared about me."

"Don't do that again," Michael growled in response.

"Dudes, it's getting heavy out here!" Franklin exclaimed.

"Shit," Alex grunted. "I'm gonna go help him. Clear out in here, and come join us." She hurried out the door of the control booth and found Franklin crouched behind a crate. There were FIB soldiers surrounding him, all hiding behind their cars.

"Look at these fools," she said, joining Franklin. "Hiding in fear." A few managed to get by into the building. "Another FIB team heading in."

She and Franklin shot at a group that had just pulled up in a Bee Jay as Trevor asked, "We all clear in here?"

"Yeah, we're good," Michael agreed. "Hey, Frank and Al, we're clear inside. Heading towards the exits to help you."

"We need it!" Franklin answered, blind shooting over the top of the box.

"What the fuck is going on out here?" Michael asked, coming up behind them.

"Nothing unusual," Alex answered.

"We'll just keep putting 'em down until they stop pulling up," Trevor said simply. "I could use some help on the back side of the factory."

"Comin'," Alex said, winking at Michael before hurrying to find him. Trevor was crouched behind a vacated Mesa.

"There's a sniper on top of the building," he explained. "I guess rifles are useful for something."

"I heard that," Michael grunted through the earpiece.

Without speaking, Alex leaned around the car and fired. The bullet wizzed through the air and hit the sniper square in the head. Trevor gaped at her. "How the fuck –"

"I learn from the best," she responded, grinning widely. "C'mon, let's head back to the front." As she finished speaking, she heard the very familiar whirring of a helicopter from above. They both looked up to see a Merryweather chopper flying straight at them. "Fuck."

All of a sudden, the chopper went spiraling out of control, crashing into the side of the factory and exploding. "Rifles are good for something," Michael said simply through the earpiece.

"Thanks, Mikey," Alex responded with a breath of relief.

"Yeah, whatever," Trevor said, grunting.

"I think that's all of 'em," Franklin breathed. "Let's regroup by that loading bay."

"C'mon, Alex," Trevor said, standing and running for it. They all reached it at approximately the same time, and Michael let out a breath.

"Looks like we did it," he said, shaking his head.

"Shit, for now," Franklin replied.

"Exactly, for now," Michael agreed.

Trevor, who appeared to be the least winded out of them all, calmly said, "So, what's next? Are we just gonna wait around until someone else comes to kill us? Or, are we gonna wait until this fucker gets turned again?" he asked, leaning into Michael's face.

"Bite me," Michael responded. "Ain't nobody getting' turned again, and you know it." He started to walk back towards the front of the foundry, where the cars were parked.

"Shit," Franklin began as the others followed him. "The way I see it, we only just begun to clean this shit up. We got a lot of old friends I think need to be reeducated."

"A lot of friends," Trevor agreed. "I mean, things could get really messy."

"Nah, we just gotta silence a few noisy people," Michael argued.

"Well, let me see, there's…"

"Steve Haines," Michael said.

"Dave Norton," Trevor added.

"No," Michael and Alex said at the same time, and Michael finished, "we need him alive."

"Why?" Trevor whined.

"Well, for one, he's my half-brother," Alex said.

"And so nobody fucks with us afterwards," Michael completed.

"What about that Triad motherfucker?" Franklin queried. "The one who thinks you two boys are dating?"

"Who?" Alex asked. "Dating?"

"Yep, there's that," Michael answered Franklin's question, ignoring hers.

"Well, there's that guy that set up Lamar," Trevor put in before she could ask again.

"Stretch?" Franklin asked. "We want to throw him in?"

"Trevor will throw in whoever to satiate his blood lust," Michael explained.

"Hey, it's called a fucking loose end, alright? Now, if we're gonna be men, and woman, of peace and tranquility, we tie 'em all up," Trevor said. They'd reached the cars, Alex surprised to see Franklin's bike in place of Lamar's car.

"Man, Stretch has been a liability," Franklin allowed.

"Then we're gonna have to take care of our old pals Devin Weston and Steve Haines," Michael concluded.

"Oh, fuck, what a mess, man!" Franklin exclaimed, throwing up his hands in exasperation.

"Well, let's get it cleaned up," Michael said. "How about you call Lester?"

Franklin pulled out his phone and sat down on the seat of his motorcycle as it rang. "Who is this?" Lester demanded on the other end. "I told you to stop calling this number."

"It's me, dog," Franklin said.

"You're alive." Lester sounded relieved. "I thought someone might have your phone."

"Oh, no, but look, I got you on speaker phone."

"Did Alex and Mike make it?" Lester queried.

"Yeah, we're here," Michael answered, and Alex wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

"And the other one?"

Trevor growled and leaned over Franklin's phone. "I'll see you put in the ground, wheels."

"Uh huh. You uh, just calling for a chat?" Lester asked.

"No, we got some work to do," Michael answered. "Can you get us some whereabouts?"

"Well, I'll do my best. Who?"

"Steve Haines, to start," Michael said.

"And Devin Weston," Alex told him.

"And uh… Wei Cheng!" Trevor added. "W-E-I C-H-E-N-G. Wei Cheng, Wei Cheng! And Franklin's pal, Stretch."

"Stretch?" Lester asked.

"Look man, his real name is Harold Joseph," Franklin clarified.

"Uh huh, well, look, I can tell you that Agent Haines is taping his show over on Del Perro Pier," Lester said after a moment.

"Shot gun!" Trevor shouted. "Whoo! I wanted to ice that fucker since the moment I met him!" He ran to his truck and pulled open the door.

"Go with him," Michael said to Alex, seeing the look on her face. "I know you've wanted to see him dead for a while, too."

She kissed him and went after Trevor, hopping into the passenger seat. "Yeah!" Trevor whooped. "Trevor and Alex, on the road to kill some Feds, yeehaw!" He pulled away from the foundry, gunning the Bodhi to max speed. "Alex, I have a rifle in the back of the truck. We'll use that to put Steve Haines out to pasture."

Alex grinned. Those were the words Steve had used when he'd asked Franklin to kill Trevor. Ironic, much?

They'd barely reached Downtown LS when Michael came in on the earpiece. "I'm clear," he said. "Franklin, your pal Stretch won't be a problem no more."

"Shit, he wasn't my pal," Franklin replied. "He was a dude who ganked us homie. Thanks. So who we got, man?"

"We got Wei Cheng and Agent Haines on the list," Trevor said from where he sat next to her.

"Shit, I'm nearing that beach place right now," Franklin said. "I'm gonna get rid of that old Chinese dude."

"Be careful, Franklin," Alex told him.

"I've dealt with them Triads before," he answered.

"When?" Trevor queried, directing his question to Alex. She merely smiled sheepishly and didn't answer him. "Alright, fine, don't tell me."

A few minutes later, Franklin was back. "Hey, I got out clean – you dudes ain't goin' have no more Triads coming after you."

"We ain't gonna have anyone to sell superweapons to either, but hey ho," Trevor said.

"Who's next?" Michael asked.

"What happens next is Alex and I plant Steve Haines in the dirt," Trevor told him. They had reached the pier, and Trevor drove right down the boardwalk, ignoring the signs that said "No Cars Past This Point". They reached the end, and Trevor climbed out.

"I bet he's up in the Ferris Wheel," he mumbled to himself. "Lester, see if you can patch us into his radio mike. I want one last reminder of what an annoying prick he is."

Almost at once, Alex could hear Steve Haines talking, and her lip curled at his voice. "Los Santos. A city of saints, a city of sinners, and nothing in between but the FIB."

"Oh please," Alex said. "Gag me with a spoon. What an asshole." She climbed out of the truck and grabbed the rifle before Trevor could. "I want to kill him."

"Hey, I called shotgun!" Trevor exclaimed.

"Well, one of you needs to do it, so figure it out now," Michael sighed.

Alex looked at Trevor with big eyes, and he shook his head. "Sorry, princess, but he's my kill. Give me the rifle."

Alex let out a muttered curse and handed it to him. Trevor grinned and held up the rifle, taking aim. "And…"

"Finish him!" she exclaimed. Trevor fired, and the people around them started to screech.

"Get in the truck, quick!" Trevor shouted, throwing the rifle into the back and running around to the driver's side. Alex jumped in and shut her door, just before Trevor gunned the engine and they took off down the deck. They managed to get off the pier just before sirens started to wail in the distance.

"Shit, it's the fuzz!" Alex said.

"All in a day's work, kiddo," Trevor said simply, turning sharply down a darkened alley. He pulled to a halt within in the shadows as a cop car raced past the end, lights flashing and siren blaring. Trevor turned to look at her. "So! Devin Weston next, huh?"

"If Lester has his whereabouts, yeah," she agreed.

Eventually, the sirens faded away to nothing, and Trevor said, "Hey, Lester, we dealt with Haines. You got a location on Devin Weston yet?"

"Yeah, yeah, I do," Lester responded through the earpieces. "Merryweather team was dispatched to protect him at his house in the Tongva Hills." He scoffed. "I say house, it's more of a –"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever," Trevor said, cutting him off as he pulled onto the street from out of the alley. "We'll go up there and get him."

"No killing him!" Michael ordered.

"No promises," Alex growled darkly.

($)

She didn't kill him, though. She and Trevor went to his house, Trevor snuck in, killed all the Merryweather, and brought him out, knocked out and slung over his shoulder. They drove him up to the cliffs off the GOH that hung over the Pacific Ocean. Once there, they'd had their fun beating him and putting tape over his mouth to shut him up, Trevor commenting that someone should have done that a long time ago.

Now, they were waiting on the trunk of Devin's car for the others to show up. Michael arrived first, and Alex grinned, hopping down off of the car to meet him as he climbed from his.

"Hey, Al," he greeted, picking her up in a hug and carrying her over to where Trevor was still with the car. He set her down on the ground as Trevor looked at him, holding out his arms.

"Franklin?"

"Ah, he'll be here," Michael answered Trevor's question as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He started to light one, but started coughing before he could take a long drag. With a grunt, he tossed the pack and the cigarette in the cliff

Franklin did indeed pull up. "Franklin."

"Hey, what's up?" he queried as he climbed off of his motorcycle and put his bike helmet on the bars.

"I assume you got him?" Michael asked Trevor, walking over the car.

"Safe and sound!" Trevor answered, opening up the trunk. Inside lay Devin Weston, tied up and bloody. "Ain't that right, buddy?"

"Hey, my bad homie," Franklin said. "I picked C. Ain't that a bitch?"

Devin squirmed and tried to speak through the tape, but couldn't.

"You know, Devin," Michael began. "The way I see it, and hey, I'm no intelligent business man like you. But the way I see it, there's two great evils that bedevil American capitalism of the type that you practice. Number one, is outsourcing. You paid a private company to do your dirty work for ya, and then ya underpaid that company because you thought you were big enough and bad enough that you didn't have to play by the rules."

Devin was cursing Michael with his eyes. Alex wanted to claw them out.

"Number two," Michael went on. "Offshoring your profits."

"Offshoring?" Trevor questioned.

"Oh, it's horrible," Michael said. "You wouldn't want to be sent offshore to save a little money, would you, T?"

"Oh no, I wouldn't," Trevor responded, shaking his head.

"Franklin, Alex?"

"Oh no, I ain't goin' nowhere," Franklin said.

"I'm very happy where I am, thank you," Alex agreed as Michael wrapped one arm around her shoulders.

"No, see? But we know your opinion on the matter, Devin," he said to the man in the trunk. "Keep your problems the fuck out of America, huh?"

Trevor leaned into the trunk. "In this instance, when he puts it like that, it makes sense," he said.

"'Course it does," Michael agreed.

"And, let me just say one more thing," Alex said. She leaned down into Devin's face and met his gray eyes, which narrowed at her. "If you're going to try and kill a woman, do it yourself, so that she can kick you in the balls first." She then reached over and punched him in his valuables, hard.

Devin screamed behind the tape, and Michael reached up and put his free hand on the trunk door. "Hey Devin? Goodbye my old friend. Thanks for all the advice." He closed the trunk on top of him, and nodded to the others, pushing Alex along towards the passenger window.

She got in position and glanced around at her family. They all grinned at her, and she faced forward again. Together, the four of them pushed the car to the edge of the cliff, and off it. It went tumbling down through the air into the water. There was a slight moment before it exploded into a fiery inferno, and Alex brushed her hands together.

"Well, that was fun."

Trevor nodded in agreement and looked at them all. "So now what?" he queried.

"Now we keep a low profile and get on with our lives," Michael answered simply.

"As friends?" Trevor asked.

"What, do I have a choice?" Michael questioned, and Alex glared up at him.

"Nah, not really," Trevor said with a shrug.

"Alright then," Michael said. "As uh… flawed, awful, totally uncomfortable and poorly matched friends. Absolutely."

"Well, that's perfect," Trevor said with a nod. "Then we can get back to the kind of capitalism _we_ practice."

"Shit," Franklin put in. "I don't know how much more better that is than Devin's kind."

"Ah, hypocrisy Franklin," Michael said, grabbing Alex by the waist and pulling her against him. "Civilization's greatest virtue."

"Jesus, your therapist has a lot to answer for," Trevor said with a head shake.

"I know, I still hate myself," Michael agreed. "But hey, at least I know the words for it now."

"Yeah, well, I hate you and I know the words for it, so does that mean I don't have to go to therapy?" Trevor asked hopefully.

Franklin looked at Alex and shook his head. "Look man, you motherfuckers terrify me of that middle age." He held up his hands and turned away from them. "I'm good."

"You're right to be afraid, Franklin," Michael told him, leading Alex over to where he'd parked his car. "Be very afraid, Franklin."

They watched him climb onto his motorcycle and drive off, and then Michael turned to Trevor, opening Alex's door for her. "I'll tell you one thing, T," he said to him, crossing in front of the car to his side. "I'm getting too old for this nonsense."

"You're not old," Alex told him after they'd driven away from the cliff.

Michael laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe you think that because you feel the same way I do."

"Nah, I think that because if you were too old, you wouldn't have done any of this crap," she answered.

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm the right age," Michael suggested. Alex merely gave a shrug, and he looked over at her with a small grin. "You're something else, Al."

"I know, Mikey," Alex replied, returning the smile. "I know."

* * *

 ***sigh***

 **I'll see you guys on Friday. Have a good week.**


	31. Epilogue (And an Apology)

***sigh***

 **So, this isn't what I wanted it to be at all. I wrote when the Fiction was just beginning to get published, and it sounded good then, but when I was editing it earlier this week, I was like, "Wow. This is fucking garbage."**

 **But then I decided this: What better way to end a Fiction that started bad, then went to okay, then slowly worked it's way back to bad?**

 **I could be just critiquing myself way to hard. I am kind of tired today, and I'm not in the best mood, either.**

 **What a shitty way to end this, huh?**

 **Deson9t9: You know, I don't think either alternate ending would end well for Franklin. Alex would probably kill him, teaming up with the one he didn't kill in that particular ending.  
Plus, it would kill me inside to have to write it.**

 **Guest: Thank you, Anonymous Friend. I'm grateful you think Alex developed nicely, since I'm terrible at character development typically. I appreciate you, and I think I will continue writing, I just don't know if it's going to be Grand Theft Auto...**

 **awolfnamedThaliaJackson: *cri* I'd like to think so, too.**

 **Okay, well, I guess this is it. Thanks, you guys. Please, try to enjoy this terrible epilogue that I feel sorry for writing.**

 **I guess if you have any questions about anything, you can DM me. I would have a lot of questions if I was reading this, tbh.**

 **"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?" would probably be the biggest one.**

* * *

"Wait, so, you did what to him?" Lester asked in shock the next day.

Alex grinned. "Punched him in the balls."

"My God, Alex!" He started to laugh as she passed him a glass of whiskey. "You're kidding, right?"

"Of course I'm not kidding," she answered with a head shake. "It doesn't matter, anyhow. He's dead, and so are the other pricks who wanted us dead."

As she finished speaking, Michael, Trevor and Franklin came into Michael's living room. Alex smiled and stood up. Michael wrapped his arms around her in a hug as Lester rose from the couch using his cane and lifted his glass.

"Well, gentlemen and lady," he began. "We have done it."

"By "it", what do you mean?" Trevor asked. "It, meaning we pulled off the biggest job any of us will ever pull off, or it meaning rid the Earth of all the scum we could?" As he said it, he sent a pointed look in Michael's direction.

"Hey, T?" Alex put in before Michael could say anything. "No."

"What, just because there's some sort of – thing – happening between the two of you does not give him a break from my sarcastic comments, okay?"

"Could we keep the fighting away for a few hours?" Franklin asked them. "Damn."

"Sorry, Frankie," Alex apologized. She took Michael's hand and pulled him over to the couch. "What were you saying, Lest?"

She went over to pour Trevor, Franklin and Michael some whisky too as Lester glanced around at everyone. "I was saying that we did it, as in we pulled off the biggest jobs of our lives and killed off a few of the worst people on planet Earth." He focused on Trevor. "Did that clear it up for you?"

"Yes, yes it did," Trevor answered. "Although, I would like something else to be cleared up." He took the glass Alex offered, and gestured to her and then Michael with it. "Listen to me, both of you. If you're going to have sex –"

"Trevor!" they exclaimed at the same time.

"What?" Alex shook her head as she handed Michael his glass. "I'm serious, if you have sex, Michael, you are going to use protection."

"Oh my God," Alex said, pressing her hand to her forehead. "Trevor…"

"Alex, I'm not kidding. If something happens to where Michael is actually able to get his boy up –"

"Trevor, enough. Okay?" She planted a grin on her face and held up her glass. "So, I propose a toast to the five of us."

"Hear-hear," Lester agreed, joining her near the TV. She gave him a grateful look, and he gave her a tiny nod of her head in return. "To the… whatever the fuck our group name is."

"We don't have one," Michael said.

"Well, maybe we should make one!" Alex broke in quickly. She looked at Lester for help, and he raised his glass even higher than she had hers raised.

"Okay! No toast to us. A toast to the uh… the reason we decided to do all of this."

"My retirement?" Michael asked with a frown.

"Yes!" Alex agreed. She let out a hoarse laugh and nodded. "Exactly. A toast to Michael's retirement, for realsies this time. Mazel tov everybody." She swallowed her shot very quickly and nodded to herself. "Alright, good, this is great! I love all of you."

"Red, are you okay?" Franklin asked her.

"Yeah, I'm just fine, Franklin," she answered. She set her empty glass down and gave everyone a tight grin. "I uh… I'll be right back, okay?"

She quickly scurried out of the living room and up the stairs. For whatever reason, she went into Michael's bedroom and sank down on his bed, putting her head in her hands. Stupid Trevor, bringing up the one thing she didn't want to think about. It was just like him.

There was a knock on the door. "Al?"

"Fuck…" she muttered under her breath. She stood up and walked over to the door, opening it to reveal a very concerned Michael.

"Are you alright?" he asked her gently.

"Yes," she answered with a firm nod. Michael titled his head, and she broke. Turning away from him, she returned to the bed, shaking her head. "No."

"What is it?" Michael followed her into the room as she sat down and returned her head to her hands. "Al, you know you can tell me anything."

"Oh, yeah, I know," Alex responded. "I just… uhm…" She let out a long breath and raised her head so that she was looking at him. When she saw the expression of worry on his face, however, she let out a very ugly noise and lowered her head again. "Nope."

"Alex."

"I just… I can't, Michael," she said quietly.

He didn't say anything for a moment, and then he sighed. "Okay. You can tell me when you're ready."

Before she could respond, there was the sound of feet on the stairs, and then there was Trevor. "Alex! I'm sorry, I didn't know that –" She gestured not so subtly to Michael with her head before shaking it. Trevor visibly bit his tongue and snapped his fingers. "I didn't know that… Michael's bedroom was so pretty!" he exclaimed. He walked over to the wall and rubbed his hand against it. "So, so pretty."

Michael turned away from Trevor and looked at Alex, crossing his arms. "What's going on?"

"Okay," Alex sighed, standing up. "Michael, I uh… the sex thing's a weird topic for me."

He gazed at her for a moment, a strange look on his face. "What?" he finally asked.

"Jesus," Trevor muttered. "She doesn't want you to put your old man dong inside her, sugar tits."

Michael looked from him to Alex. "That's it?"

Alex nodded weakly. "I… I don't like it. It's not… it isn't something I like to do, which might sound strange, but it's the truth. I'm sorry, Michael, but… I don't know if we'll be having sex anytime soon."

Michael's brow furrowed for a moment, and then he shrugged. "That's okay."

"What?" Alex and Trevor asked at the same time.

"I said that it's okay." He gave her a reassuring grin. "If you don't want to have sex, I'm not going to make you, because I care about you."

"Oh please," Trevor sighed. They both looked at him, and he held up his hands. "Sorry, sorry, just not comfortable with this romance thing." He started to move towards the door again, keeping his hands up. "I was never here."

As soon as he was out of the room, Michael returned his gaze to Alex. "Listen," he began, taking her face in his hands. "I'm not kidding. If you prefer not to do the do, as the kids say, we won't."

Alex let out a breath and smiled. "Thank you."

He nodded and took a step back. "So, you're alright, then?" he asked.

"Yeah," she agreed after a moment, returning the grin. "I'm good."

"Good," he said. "Let's go back downstairs and celebrate, then."

She nodded, and he led her out of the bedroom and back down the stairs. As soon as they reached the living room, Lester was apologizing: "I didn't want to tell them."

"Hey, it's alright, Lest," she told him. "Trevor actually made it easier."

Her mentor merely shrugged humbly. "Yeah, that's what I do." He waited a few moments before he said, "So uh… what does this mean, exactly?"

"It means that… we probably won't have sex right away, but it'll happen. Eventually."

"Ew," Franklin and Trevor muttered at the same time.

"Hey, T, it's no different from you and that stripper," Alex said.

"What stripper?"

"The stripper you stole from the Unicorn right after we came to LS," she explained. "Remember? The blond?"

"Oh." Trevor licked his lips nervously and took another shot of whisky. "Right." He held out his glass towards Franklin, who was pouring a new one for himself. "Quick."

Franklin stopped mid-pour to switch the stream to Trevor's glass. He swallowed the alcohol quickly and then stood, shaking out his shoulders. "Right. Well, I think this has been enough celebrating," he said after a moment. "I'm gonna be on my way, you know, because I have a business to run."

He bowed to Alex and then exited the living room, the front door closing in his wake. "Huh," Lester commented after a moment. "He must have killed her."

"Probably," Franklin agreed. He waved his hand and finished his own glass. "I gotta go, too. I promised Lamar we'd do somethin' today." He shook his head. "I'm scared to know what he got planned." He waved his hand. "I'll holla at y'all."

"Later, Frankie," Alex said as he walked from the living room and left the house. She sank down on the couch beside Michael while looking at Lester. "How'd you get here?"

"Cab," Lester answered. She nodded, and he let out a frustrated breath before picking up his cane and putting his glass down on the side table. "I guess I'll be going home that way, too."

As he stood up, Michael glanced sideways at Alex. She raised an eyebrow, and he turned back to Lester. "Hey, Lest?" Lester stopped and looked over his shoulder at them. Michael offered him a small smile. "Thank you. For everything."

Lester rolled his eyes. "Not really your character, pal."

"Yeah, I know," Michael answered, "but let me be sentimental for once."

Lester waved his free hand at him and waddled out of the living room. Alex waited for the front door to close before she shook her head and poured herself a new class of whisky. "So, let's play a drinking game," she suggested. "Drink every time Trevor comments on our love life within the next four times we see him."

"What if we don't have any alcohol?" Michael asked.

Alex looked at him. "If you think we'll be able to get through the next four Trevor meetings without alcohol, woof." She swallowed another shot and shook her head. "You got more balls than me."

"I would hope so," Michael said with a good natured shake of his head.

"Oh, hey, if it's a sarcastic comment, we take a double."

Michael reached over and pulled the whisky bottle from her hands. "Yeah, I think that's enough booze for you."

"You can never have enough booze, Mikey," Alex retorted, shaking her finger at him. "Give it back."

Instead, Michael leaned over and kissed her for a moment. When he pulled back, Alex's lips remained puckered for a moment before she licked them and nodded to herself. "Alright, that's better than booze."

"Al, what if Trevor says something that isn't necessarily wrong?" Michael asked her as she plucked the bottle from him and put the cap onto it.

She paused, thinking about it for a moment. Finally, she said, "Then… Trevor drinks."

"Alright," Michael said with a grin. "But you get to clean up his puke."

Alex scoffed and picked up the remote control. "Yeah, right."

* * *

 **In the words of whoever said this first: And that's all she wrote.**

 **I love you guys. Take care.**


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